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walks slowly back in, a book open in her hand.

"Responds,--as if with unseen wings,
An angel touched its quivering strings;
And whispers, in its song,
'Where hast thou stayed so long?'"

mutters to herself, leans on the counter, still reading.

listens quietly

That was lovely...
 
Teenagers are just monsters we let live.

my teenagers do not act like this one. he has no internal filter, and one day he is going to piss off the wrong person and get his ass kicked. it doesnt help much that his parents talk to and around him like he is another adult. and if i spoke to my parents the way he does to his, id be buried in the back 40 somewhere.
 
listens quietly

That was lovely...

looks up, smiles. holds a finger out.

"The rising moon has hid the stars;
Her level rays, like golden bars,
Lie on the landscape green,
With shadows brown between.

And silver white the river gleams,
As if Diana, in her dreams,
Had dropt her silver bow
Upon the meadows low.

On such a tranquil night as this,
She woke Endymion with a kiss,
When, sleeping in the grove,
He dreamed not of her love.

Like Diana's kiss, unasked, unsought,
Love gives itself, but is not bought;
Nor voice, nor sound betrays
Its deep, impassioned gaze.

It comes,--the beautiful, the free,
The crown of all humanity,--
In silence and alone
To seek the elected one.

It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep
Are Life's oblivion, the soul's sleep,
And kisses the closed eyes
Of him, who slumbering lies.

O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes!
O drooping souls, whose destinies
Are fraught with fear and pain,
Ye shall be loved again!

No one is so accursed by fate,
No one so utterly desolate,
But some heart, though unknown,
Responds unto his own.

Responds,--as if with unseen wings,
An angel touched its quivering strings;
And whispers, in its song,
'Where hast thou stayed so long?'"
 
looks up, smiles. holds a finger out.

"The rising moon has hid the stars;

...

'Where hast thou stayed so long?'"

repeats softly

"O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes!
O drooping souls, whose destinies
Are fraught with fear and pain,
Ye shall be loved again!"

sighs

Gorgeous sentiment!
 
Isn't it, though? I love Longfellow, although Keats' "Endymion" is lovely too.

It is!
And this just reminds me, I should read more poetry. After college and my literature studies ended, I've read next to none...children's poetry doesn't quite count.

grins
 
Britwitch said:
It is!
And this just reminds me, I should read more poetry. After college and my literature studies ended, I've read next to none...children's poetry doesn't quite count.

grins

I've definitely been making more of an effort lately! Although, nothing wrong with Shel Silverstein.

For example:

http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbtk4rqPiI1qemv0eo1_500.png


*peers in, hears poetry, shakes his head and ducks back out*

You heathen.
 
You heathen.

You keep calling me this as if it's something I'd try to deny.

And it's King Heathen to you!

Or.. Grand Royal Duke Heathen.

Or something.

I've just never 'got' poetry. Which sucks, but I freely admit like 98% of it is completely lost on me.
 
runs in and hides behind a couch

omg, why did i post in the am pics section? to much attention. o_O
 
*raises his head worried when he hears "Longfellow"....*

Aaahh - poetry....

*Relaxes and goes back to writing, or rather, trying to*
 
hears a Fish

smiles quietly, not wanting to frighten him away

hopes his writing is going well
 
You keep calling me this as if it's something I'd try to deny.

And it's King Heathen to you!

Or.. Grand Royal Duke Heathen.

Or something.

I've just never 'got' poetry. Which sucks, but I freely admit like 98% of it is completely lost on me.

Prime Minister of Heathenry?

That's enough! You don't get a title!

And poetry is kind of like sushi: you either really like it or really hate it. At least, I haven't met a lot of middle of the road sushi type of people. Bad analogy. Goddammit.

Fish_Tales said:
*raises his head worried when he hears "Longfellow"....*

Aaahh - poetry....

*Relaxes and goes back to writing, or rather, trying to*

Yes, Sir Fish, poetry. :rose:
 
Prime Minister of Heathenry?

That's enough! You don't get a title!

And poetry is kind of like sushi: you either really like it or really hate it. At least, I haven't met a lot of middle of the road sushi type of people. Bad analogy. Goddammit.



Yes, Sir Fish, poetry. :rose:

You know, you really shouldn't talk about sushi while a fish is in the room. Just bad manners.



Chancellor of Heathenosity.
 
Prime Minister of Heathenry?

That's enough! You don't get a title!

And poetry is kind of like sushi: you either really like it or really hate it. At least, I haven't met a lot of middle of the road sushi type of people. Bad analogy. Goddammit.

You don't love or hate sushi! I like some, but not all. And poetry is nothing like rice and eel wrapped in sea weed. So Meh!

*sticks out her tongue at Tess and giggles*
 
You know that feeling when you walk in half way through a conversation and have no idea what you've come in to...?

Am right there!

grins, bemused

*snickers*

Don't worry, freckles. You could've been here for all of it and it still wouldn't make any sense.
 
*snickers*

Don't worry, freckles. You could've been here for all of it and it still wouldn't make any sense.

This is a familiar feeling since knowing you!

grins

Now, where'd I leave that boulder....

...it makes sense to me...

*hides under her blanket*

sticks head under her blanket to kiss her cheek

It made me laugh, just didn't know why.

:eek::eek:

*gulps*

um yeah......Hello all and happy Easter

smiles and waves

Happy Easter Fishy!
 
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