if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine
P Neruda
I caught this morning morning's minion, kingdom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, & striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
What's the best thing in the world?
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in haste to end;
Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till its pride is over-plain;
EB Browning #Portmarnock
Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
W Wordsworth #Portmarnock
Yes a joke to be shared & a drink to be drank on the winding way down to Kells Bay
& the green Kerry Hills overlooking the sea, the fuschias are blooming so brightly and sweet
& the ocean could carry our worries away on the winding way down to Kells Bay
E Langford #Portmarnock
When Mrs Gorm (Aunt Eloise)
Was stung to death by savage bees,
Her husband (Prebendary Gorm)
Put on his veil, and took the swarm.
He’s publishing a book, next May,
On “How to Make Bee-Keeping Pay.”
Harry Graham #Portmarnock
love is more thicker than forget
more thinner than recall
more seldom than a wave is wet
more frequent than to fail
it is most mad and moonly
and less it shall unbe
than all the sea which only
is deeper than the sea
ee cummings #Portmarnock
O curlew, cry no more in the air,
Or only to the water in the West;
Because your crying brings to my mind
passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy hair
That was shaken out over my breast:
There is enough evil in the crying of wind.
WB Yeats #Portmarnock
Faint & perilous, far from shore,
No place to dream, but a place to die,—
The bottom of the sea once more.
There was a child that wandered through
A giant's empty house all day,—
House full of wonderful things & new,
But no fit place for a child to play.
E S V Millay
Christened in a spindrift of snowdrop stars,
where on pink-fluted feet the pigeons pass
and jonquils sprout like solomon's metaphors,
my love and I go garlanded with grass.
Again we are deluded and infer
that somehow we are younger than we were.
S Plath #Portmarnock
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
W Shakespeare #Portmarnock
I am wild, I will sing to the trees,
I will sing to the stars in the sky
I love, I am loved, he is mine
Now at last I can die!
I am sandaled with wind and with flame
I have heart-fire and singing to give,
I can tread on the grass or the stars,
Now at last I can live!
S Teasdale
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry
We hailed, “Good morrow, mother!” to a shawl-covered head,
And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read
And she wept, “God bless you!” for the apples and pears,
And we gave her all our money but our subway fares
E Millay
Stone Walls do not a Prison make,
Nor Iron bars a Cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an Hermitage.
If I have freedom in my Love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone that soar above,
Enjoy such Liberty.
R Lovelace #Portmarnock
For ‘mid old friends, tried & true,
Once more we our youth renew.
But old friends, alas! may die;
New friends must their place supply.
Cherish friendship in your breast
New is good, but old is best;
Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold.
J Parry
The poems flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be all right.
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end.
W Shakespeare
Every morn is the world made new.
You who are weary of sorrow and sinning,
Here is a beautiful hope for you,—
A hope for me and a hope for you.
All the past things are past and over;
The tasks are done and the tears are shed.
S Coolidge #Portmarnock
Coffee arrives, that Grave and wholesome Liquor
That heals the Stomack, makes the Genuis quicker
Relieve, the Memory, Revives the Sad
And chears the Spirits, without making Mad
Anon 1674 #Portmarnock
He ate and drank the precious words,
His spirit grew robust;
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was dust.
He danced along the dingy days,
And this bequest of wings
Was but a book. What liberty
A loosened spirit brings
Emily Dickinson #Portmarnock