Black Iron Gate

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Black Iron Gate

*

In the back yard all alone I sit,

Warm Spring sun, softness of breeze.

Trusting friends will come for a visit,

Hearing the squeak of that gate, oh please.

*

Seedlings float by brushing my cheeks,

I dream of running, oh wouldn’t that be great.

Thoughts float by, I’m wading in creeks,

Better still, I hear the squeak of the gate.

Hopefully they’ll come, friends and class mates.

*

I try very hard to keep a smile on my face,

In my mind, I can go just about any  place.

No one is coming, in the warmth of this day,

I’ll stay positive, I’ll read my book.

At the black iron gate, no more shall I look.

*

Day is near end, what more to hear, what more to say,

The black iron gate did not squeak, didn’t open, nor sway,

There were no friends to come visit me today.

*

I traveled down many paths in the woods,

Climbed mountains and waded in brooks.

I did all of these things and many more,

My adventures come from all my books.

*

Another rising, another day I will again in my 

back yard wait,

Sitting under colored trees, crisp air telling of Fall.

With my books in my lap, near the black iron gate,

Indeed I have no doubt, soon my friends will call.

*

                                  Eileen “2011”wheelchair (1)

To Autumn

Image result for beautiful images of Fall

To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;

To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

*

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?

Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,

Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;

Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,

Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook

Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:

And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep

Steady thy laden head across a brook;

Or by a cider-press, with patient look,

Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

*

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?

Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,–

While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;

Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn

Among the river sallows, borne aloft

Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;

And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;

Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft

The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,

And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

John Keats, 1795 – 1821

John Keats
Born in 1795, John Keats was an English Romantic poet and author of three poems considered to be among the finest in the English language.

An Autumn Evening

Dark hills against a hollow crocus sky
Scarfed with its crimson pennons, and below
The dome of sunset long, hushed valleys lie
Cradling the twilight, where the lone winds blow
And wake among the harps of leafless trees
Fantastic runes and mournful melodies.

The chilly purple air is threaded through
With silver from the rising moon afar,
And from a gulf of clear, unfathomed blue
In the southwest glimmers a great gold star
Above the darkening druid glens of fir
Where beckoning boughs and elfin voices stir.

And so I wander through the shadows still,
And look and listen with a rapt delight,
Pausing again and yet again at will
To drink the elusive beauty of the night,
Until my soul is filled, as some deep cup,
That with divine enchantment is brimmed up.

by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Fall Image:

~ First Day of Summer ~

 

Image result for first day of summer june 21

Lets start it out right ! Homemade Lemon Iced Tea.

                                    Or

The Last Iced Coffee Recipe You’ll Ever Need.

http://.grandmotherskitchen.org/recipes/homemade-lemon-iced-tea.html

http://cravingcomfort.blogspot.com/2011/07/last-iced-coffee-recipe-youll-ever-need.html

Come Walk With Me

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The road to poetry is long and cool, refreshing and beautiful. Come walk with me down that road. come with your cup of tea and visit with me at the website. You will see that it is good for the whole family and the best yet is that it is free, come, come walk with me.

http://coffeeandpoems.com/

Image:Found on infocowboysandcustard.blogspot.co.uk