AxlsFavoriteRose
-
Posts
11,608 -
Joined
-
Last visited
-
Days Won
25
Content Type
Profiles
Forums
Store
Events
Status Updates posted by AxlsFavoriteRose
-
it's a sad commentary on the state of affairs when people are settling for the lesser of two evils....and that is MY opinion. smh :/
-
back from Bodega Bay and the Redwood Forest sooo glorious but there's no place like home
-
I had a dream, a dream of dread: I thought that horror held the house; A burglar bent above my bed, He moved as quiet as a mouse. With hairy hand and naked knife He poised to plunge a bloody stroke, Until despairful of my life I shrieked with terror - and awoke. I had a dream of weary woes: In weather that was fit to freeze, I thought that I had lost my cloths, And only wore a short chemise. The wind was wild; so catch a train I ran, but no advance did make; My legs were pistoning in vain - How I was happy to awake! I had a dream: Upon the stair I met a maid who kissed my lips; A nightie was her only wear, We almost came to loving grips. And then she opened wide a door, And pointed to a bonny bed . . . Oh blast! I wakened up before I could discover - were we wed? Alas! Those dreams of broken bliss, Of wakenings too sadly soon! With memories of sticky kiss, And limbs so languidly a-swoon! Alas those nightmares devil driven! Those pantless prowlings in Pall Mall! Oh why should some dreams be like heaven And others so resemble hell?
Poem by Robert William Service
-
don't ya just hate the day after you get wasted? all those questions, all those...regrets??
-
Upon that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans dance,
Or over the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly horses prance;
Or for Colean the route is taken,
Beneath the moon's pale beams;
There, up the cove, to stray and rove,
Among the rocks and streams
To sport that night.
Among the bonny winding banks,
Where the river Doon runs clear,
Where Bruce once ruled the martial ranks,
And shook his Carrick spear,
Some merry, friendly, country-folks,
Together did convene,
To burn their nuts, and pile their shocks of wheat,
And have their Halloween
Full of fun that night.
The lasses feet, and cleanly neat,
More strong than when they're fine;
Their faces happy, full sweetly show,
Hearts faithful, warm, and kind;
The lads say true, with love knots,
Well knotted on their garters,
Some surprisingly shy, and some with chatter,
Cause the girls' hearts to get startin'
Whiles fast at night.
Then, first and foremost, through the cabbage,
Their stocks of wheat are sought at once;
They touch their own, and grasp and choose,
For very strong and straight ones.
Poor fellow Will fell off the drift,
And wander'd through the cabbage,
And pulled, for want o' better shift,
A cabbage like a pig's-tail,
So bent that night.
Then, straight or crooked, earth or none,
They roar and cry all throughout there;
The very little children, toddling, run,
With stocks out over their shoulders;
And if the custard's sweet or sour.
With pocketknives they taste them;
Thereafter cozily, about the door,
With clever care, they've placed them
To lie that night.
The girls steal away from among them all
To pull their stalks of corn:
But Rab slips out, and plays about,
Behind the very large thorn:
He grabbed onto Nelly hard and fast;
Loud screamed all the other girls;
But the grain at the top of her stalk was lost,
When cuddling in the haystacks
With him that night.
The old guidwife's well-hoarded nuts,
Are round and round divided,
And many lads' and lasses' fates
Are there that night decided:
Some kindle cosily, side by side,
And burn together trimly;
Some start away, with saucy pride,
And jumpout over the chimney
Full high that night.
Jean slips in between with careful eye;
What it was she wouldn't tell;
But this is Jock, and this is me,
She says in to herself:
He drunk over her, and she over him,
As they would never more part;
Till, puff! he started up the hide and seek,
And Jean had a a sore heart
To see't that night.
Poor Willie, with his little cabbage,
Was stuck with prudish Mallie;
And Mallie, no doubt, thought it rude,
To be thought a match for Willie;
Mall's nut leaped out with prideful fling,
And her own fit it, inpertinent;
While Willie laughed, and swore by jing,
'Twas just the way he wanted
To be that night.
Nell had the haystacks in her mind,
She puts herself and Rob in;
In loving bliss they sweetly join,
Till white in ashes they're sobbing;
Nell's heart was dancing at the view,
She whisper'd Rob to look for it:
Rob, stealthily, aprised her bonny mouth,
Full cosy in the nook for it,
Unseen that night.
But Merran sat behind their backs,
Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;
She leaves them chattering at their tales,
And slips out by herself:
She through the yard the nearest takes,
And to the fire goes then,
And in the dark grabbed for the box,
And in the blue-spell throws then,
Right afraid that night. -
Spirits of the Dead Edgar Allan Poe
Thy soul shall find itself alone
’Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness — for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.
The night, though clear, shall frown,
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne’er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more, like dew-drop from the grass.
The breeze, the breath of God, is still,
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token.
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries! -
The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere—
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year:
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir—
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir ...
Edgar Allan Poe -
“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,Then look for me by moonlight,Watch for me by moonlight,I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”
from the poem The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes...one of my favorites
-
love the new banner except for Fortus's man boob! j/k it's really good
-
"You should not peep at goblin men.”
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/44996
-
he tore my feelings like I had none
And ripped them away -
woke up to the most beautiful rainbow over the snow dusted mountains
