There is a Gentle Thought
Dante Alighieri

There is a gentle thought that often springs
to life in me, because it speaks of you.
Its reasoning about love’s so sweet and true,
the heart is conquered, and accepts these things.
‘Who is this’ the mind enquires of the heart,
‘who comes here to seduce our intellect?
Is his power so great we must reject
every other intellectual art?
The heart replies ‘O, meditative mind
this is love’s messenger and newly sent
to bring me all Love’s words and desires.
His life, and all the strength that he can find,
from her sweet eyes are mercifully lent,
who feels compassion for our inner fires.’

Futility
Wilfred Owen

Move him into the sun--
Gently its touch awoke him once,
At home, whispering of fields unsown.
Always it awoke him, even in France,
Until this morning and this snow.
If anything might rouse him now
The kind old sun will know.

Think how it wakes the seeds--
Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.
Are limbs so dear-achieved, are sides
Full-nerved,--still warm,--too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
--O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?

Time Lapse Return to Earth from the Space Station

http://fragileoasis.org/blog/2011/11/coming-back-down-to-our-fragile-oasis-2/

I was downloading images from my camera today
and was pleasantly reminded of a Derbyshire summer.

If you follow the line of the distant hills from left to right till they peter out, the village just noticeable below them is Peak Dale, where I spent my childhood. A country child.

A quote from the lovely Liz Smith...

"One of the best parts of growing older?
You can flirt all you like since you've become harmless."

The Tryst
Walter de la Mare

"O whither are you faring to, my sweetheart?
How far now are you journeying, my dear?"
"I am climbing to the brink of yonder hill-top,
Naught human far or near."

"And what will you be seeking there, my sweetheart?
What happy scene is thence surveyed. my dear?"
"Twill be night-tide when outwearied I come thither,
And star-shine icy clear."

"But what will you be brooding on, my sweetheart?
What fantasies of darkness will appear?"
"My self will keep a tryst there - bleak and lonely -
My own heart's secrets I shall share."

"But what will be the manner of your greeting?
What word will you then whisper - no one near?"
"Ah, he who loved me once would know the answer,
Were he still true, my dear."

 /\„,„/\

( =';'= )

/*♥♥*\

(.|.|..|.|.)

Friendship
Elizabeth Jennings

Such love I cannot analyse;
It does not rest in lips or eyes,
Neither in kisses nor caress.
Partly, I know, it’s gentleness

And understanding in one word
Or in brief letters. It’s preserved
By trust and by respect and awe.
These are the words I’m feeling for.

Two people, yes, two lasting friends.
The giving comes, the taking ends
There is no measure for such things.
For this all Nature slows and sings.

The Seed-Shop
Muriel Stuart

Here in a quiet and dusty room they lie,
Faded as crumbled stone or shifting sand,
Forlorn as ashes, shrivelled, scentless, dry -
Meadows and gardens running through my hand.

In this brown husk a dale of hawthorn dreams;
A cedar in this narrow cell is thrust
That will drink deeply of a century's streams;
These lilies shall make summer on my dust.

Here in their safe and simple house of death,
Sealed in their shells, a million roses leap;
Here I can blow a garden with my breath,
And in my hand a forest lies asleep.

A lovely 'May Day' yesterday with two booksignings in London, plus Top Gear Live last Sunday.
I'm still in a state of slight euphoria. Thanks James x

I have a large clock on my computer homepage - when I looked up at it this morning, it read Eleven minutes past eleven. I tried to print screen it but it had already moved to 11:12, darn.

Still, at least I saw it when it said 11:11 on the 11/11/11

p.s. got it in the evening...

For the Fallen
Laurence Binyon

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables at home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Sonnet: Beauty Of Her Face
Dante Alighieri

For certain he hath seen all perfectness
Who among other ladies hath seen mine:
They that go with her humbly should combine
To thank their God for such peculiar grace.
So perfect is the beauty of her face
That is begets in no wise any sigh
Of envy, but draws round her a clear line
Of love, and blessed faith, and gentleness.
Merely the sight of her makes all things bow:
Not she herself alone is holier
Than all; but hers, through her, are raised above.
From all her acts such lovely graces flow
That truly one may never think of her
Without a passion of exceeding love.

Toy Story
-------------
The Flying Scotsman,
On miles of rail,
A little Lilliputian on the Tarka Trail.

A gulp of sentiment,
A shout of joy,
Pride in the endurance of a childhood toy.

It was coming home,
It had made it through,
For the Toy Story man and the child that knew.

Elaine x

They are selling four foot Concorde replicas, made out of wood, on eBay. That's your first e-present for Christmas!

Feeling emotional having just watched the Edge of Space clip...

In Memoriam
Alfred Lord Tennyson

Dear friend, far off, my lost desire,
So far, so near in woe and weal;
O loved the most, when most I feel
There is a lower and a higher;

Known and unknown; human, divine;
Sweet human hand and lips and eye;
Dear heavenly friend that canst not die,
Mine, mine, for ever, ever mine;

Strange friend, past, present, and to be;
Loved deeplier, darklier understood;
Behold, I dream a dream of good,
And mingle all the world with thee.

Dedicated to a former choirboy!

Choirs
George R Hamilton

Does memory make you sad of heart?
No, I'll not trust those ancient tales,
Though you should make my tears to start,
You choirs of soulless nightingales:

For I've heard twenty rogues today,
Your rivals, flouting gods and men,
Come laughing into Church from play,
Rustle their surplices, and then

To heavens higher than all height
From rascal throats unfaltering raise
A Jacob's ladder of pure light,
A single sanctity of praise.