From Recollections of Early Childhood The Child is father of the Man;And I could wish my days to beBound each to each by natural piety. I There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,The earth, and every common sight,To me did seemApparelled in celestial light,The glory and the freshness of a dream.It is not now as it hath been of yore;Turn wheresoe'er I may,By … [Read more...] about Ode On Intimations Of Immortality, By: William Wordsworth
Poems
Conflicted Pieces Of Myself, By: Teri Dourmashkin
My inner child screams and wails.She wants to feel safe, only torrents of hail.My teenager rails at the injustice of fate.Fighting demons, they dance with such hate.My adult self-cries in anguish and pain.Give me some peace, let me feel sane.I close my eyes, sail on riverboats that fly.Now I know why I need to cry. … [Read more...] about Conflicted Pieces Of Myself, By: Teri Dourmashkin
Ode – The Morning Of The Day Appointed For A General Thanksgiving. January 18, 1816, By: William Wordsworth
I Hail, orient Conqueror of gloomy Night!Thou that canst shed the bliss of gratitudeOn hearts howe'er insensible or rude;Whether thy punctual visitations smiteThe haughty towers where monarchs dwell;Or thou, impartial Sun, with presence brightCheer'st the low threshold of the peasant's cell!Not unrejoiced I see thee climb the skyIn naked splendour, clear from mist or haze,Or … [Read more...] about Ode – The Morning Of The Day Appointed For A General Thanksgiving. January 18, 1816, By: William Wordsworth
From Dust to Stardust, By: Andrew Cyr
I figured you’d like it here.My words escape my lipsas chilled thoughts filteredthrough January.I didn’t know for sure,but I felt you would likethe backdrop of Mount Ranieretched in hues through the valleyof the shadow of death and patchesof evergreen trees.A hall pass and a baseball batcomfort you, and God’s embracesaves sinners,saved sinners like you.Icy ripples in a … [Read more...] about From Dust to Stardust, By: Andrew Cyr
Ode, By: William Wordsworth
I Imagination, ne'er before content,But aye ascending, restless in her prideFrom all that martial feats could yieldTo her desires, or to her hopes presentStooped to the Victory, on that Belgic field,Achieved, this closing deed magnificent,And with the embrace was satisfied.Fly, ministers of Fame,With every help that ye from earth and heaven may claim!Bear through the world … [Read more...] about Ode, By: William Wordsworth