Under my window-ledge the waters race,
Otters below and moor-hens on the top,
Run for a mile undimmed in Heaven's face
Then darkening through 'dark' Raftery's 'cellar' drop,
Run underground, rise in a rocky place
In Coole demesne, and there to finish up
Spread to a lake and drop into a hole.
What's water but the generated soul?
Upon the border of that lake's a wood
Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh,
The sun has left the lea,
The orange flower perfumes the bower,
The breeze is on the sea.
The lark his lay who thrill'd all day
Sits hush'd his partner nigh:
Breeze, bird, and flower confess the hour,
But where is County Guy?
The village maid steals through the shade,
When the white flame in us is gone,
And we that lost the world's delight
Stiffen in darkness, left alone
To crumble in our separate night;
When your swift hair is quiet in death,
And through the lips corruption thrust
Has stilled the labour of my breath --
When we are dust, when we are dust! --
Wee, modest, crimson-tippèd flow'r,
Thou's met me in an evil hour;
For I maun crush amang the stoure
Thy slender stem:
To spare thee now is past my pow'r,
Thou bonie gem.
Alas! it's no thy neibor sweet,
The bonie lark, companion meet,
Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet
From plains that reel to southward, dim,
The road runs by me white and bare;
Up the steep hill it seems to swim
Beyond, and melt into the glare.
Upward half-way, or it may be
Nearer the summit, slowly steals
A hay-cart, moving dustily
With idly clacking wheels.
By his cart's side the wagoner
Is slouching slowly at his ease,
The sunny pleasures of cactus blooms,
brighten aged gold, and sunset rooms,
Like sunbirds flitting in purple plumes,
once dusk has known many perfumes.
Prickly cactus blooms, orange sun gift,
Also enjoyed during the dawn red shift.
Denizens of golden gritty sand, hottest,
creating dunes where the wind is swift.
watching the spring street
sitting on my window seat
in the fresh green hour
watching the people
in the sunshine of their lives
share a moment with the birds
beneath the rainbow
pretty penny for your thoughts
whispers in the wind
sunshine starts at noon
after such deluge delay
skies smile upside down
god's voice of thunder
commands all nature to dance
A leaf falls softly from the tree,
Drifting gently to the ground below,
Its journey ends, but it's free,
To dance and play with the wind's flow.
The sun shines down upon the earth,
Glistening on the dewy grass,
The world awakens with new birth,
A moment too beautiful to pass.
Creeping warm and green
when the sun returned golden,
spring sang in meadows.
Blooming mountains, bumblebees-
all danced to loved melodies.