Mistakes are my daily bread
My love – like warmed butter
spread over my ignorance
with sharp device
Got bread? Now, spread!
Butter ‘em up for the show
Your family and friends
would love to begin
to savor your flavor
Burnt Toast – In The Know
Melt them away
Spread yourself thin
When it’s time to exit
they will leave less crust
Leave behind no debit
Leaving bread is a must!
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It is my great pleasure to welcome Uncle Tree. He should feel quite at home here as he has great sympathy with roots and branches! The root of his post on the Wednesday Corner is his appreciation of the work of D.H. Lawrence - the branches of which, reach into Heaven itself. Many thanks, Uncle Tree aka Keith Alan Watson…
Ö
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“A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.”
Hermann Hesse
Arbor Day In America! Do support the nearest tree.
Hugz! Keith
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Deviation!
Manifested Magic
in the flesh of experience
indelibly impressive to the soul.
“All Hail! The bliss of the marvelous reigns!”
for those who have the nose for it.
Look again! suggests The Eyes.
“Who beholds Who?”
Objection!
▼
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One bright morning in the middle of the night,
there came two horses, one black and one white.
Astride the black horse was a pure white knight.
The white horse, of course, held the darkest of knights.
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When the opposites came together,
their worlds were torn asunder.
There was no more talk of the weather.
All was lightning! Ever thunder!
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The white knight needed to question
the knight dressed all in black.
The dark knight held a suggestion,
for she never turned her back.
More than one in ten people suffer from chronic loneliness...
Our cultures do little to recognise this alarmingly growing trend. In fact, chronic loneliness can become a disease that eats into the soul causing depression and deep psychological change. The chronically lonely person asks, "What's wrong with me?" Why don't I fit in? Why am I the odd one out?"
http://aaronpocock.wordpress.com/
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Loose ends were tied, the message sent,
as I walked on in merriment.
With ruddy arms I build a cairn
that lies a ways past yonder barn.
One piece of gold I have in tow,
my back faced to the winds that blow.
