Tread lightly in the Autumn morn,
For heavy is the burden you might have borne…
Category: Poetry (page 1 of 1)
Cold, always cold so I put on the sweatshirt.
Sometimes the classic gray, others the navy blue.
New, as they were, since I was just reminded of their classic look.
Perfect for knocking about, puttering as it were around the house.
Yet, classic and kind of hip and cool,
At least for this old coot, classically unhip and uncool as could be.
Is there a sweatshirt for the soul, for the heart?
Image: Taylor’s Acre Barn, via Lori Grieg https://flic.kr/p/7mic5V
When you’re in a rut, and down in a dump,
There’s a little trick that will make your heart jump:
Find something to give, and give it away –
You’ll make magic in someone’s day.
Give from your heart, no matter the cost;
You’ll find you’ll gain much more than you’ve lost.
The smile on their face, and the joy in their heart –
These are the generous giver’s art.
![[Criss.AC] Autumn sunset](https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3939/15508635748_e6ab4a249a.jpg "[Criss.AC] Autumn sunset")
Cristian N. MORMOLOC via Compfight
Soon these trees, now burdened with green,
Will be resplendent with autumn sheen…
Jazz on a Monday night when I need to be asleep.
Chet Baker My Buddy. Horace Silver Song for My Father.
Good sounds. Transported to another era.
Mellow. Laid back. Trumpet. Drums with the little brushes. Spare piano, minimal. Live recording. vibrant. cool. sophisticated.
Tinkly piano. Steady drummer. Rimshots.
Kenny Louie via Compfight
Here’s to the dabblers,
Dilettantes, and fools,
The dreamers, and schemers,
And players of cool.
New and shiny tools do not a craftsman make,
When they sit, as the old, unused…
The same monodrama by Tennyson that spoke clearly about the election prospects, shouted loudly about my own life…
Ah, what shall I be at fifty
Should Nature keep me alive,
And this one….
And ah for a man to arise in me,
That the man I am may cease to be!