Month: January 2015

Blow, Blow Thou Winter Wind

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Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind

Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,
That does not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As a friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:

– William Shakespear

http://www.aromaticcoffes.co.ukwinter wind
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

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Cry For Peace

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Cry For Peace

Every one is crying for peace
all are crying for peace
holding guns in their hands
seating on the heap of magazine
crying for peace, peace, peace
but the pigeon of peace
has flown away leaving her nest
which is accumulated with chaos and disdain
how the peace can sustain in the house
where no one wants to understand any one
always imposing overlapping others wishes
in the name of truth, wisdom and supremacy
peace is peace satisfies without implication
where peace will abode for joys of all.

– Ramesh Rai

Remembering the victims of Charlie Hebdo

charlie

Winter Morning

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wintermorning

Winter Morning

All night the wind swept over the house
And through our dream
Swirling the snow up through the pines,
Ruffling the white, ice-capped clapboards,
Rattling the windows,
Rustling around and below our bed
So that we rode
Over wild water
In a white ship breasting the waves.
We rode through the night
On green, marbled
Water, and, half-waking, watched
The white, eroded peaks of icebergs
Sail past our windows;
Rode out the night in that north country,
And awoke, the house buried in snow,
Perched on a
Chill promontory, a
Giant’s tooth
In the mouth of the cold valley,
Its white tongue looped frozen around us,
The trunks of tall birches
Revealing the rib cage of a whale
Stranded by a still stream;
And saw, through the motionless baleen of their branches,
As if through time,
Light that shone
On a landscape of ivory,
A harbor of bone

– William Jay Smith (1918)

http://www.aromaticcoffees.co.uk