Posts filed under ‘.poetry’

A TOAST TO SANTA CLAUS

by John Kendrick Bangs

Whene’er I find a man who don’t
Believe in Santa Claus,
And spite of all remonstrance won’t
Yield up to logic’s laws,
And see in things that lie about
The proof by no means dim,
I straightway cut that fellow out,
And don’t believe in him.
The good old Saint is everywhere
Along life’s busy way.
We find him in the very air
We breathe day after day—
Where courtesy and kindliness
And love are joined together,
To give to sorrow and distress
A touch of sunny weather.
We find him in the maiden’s eyes
Beneath the mistletoe,[2]
A-sparkling as the star-lit skies
All golden in their glow.
We find him in the pressure of
The hand of sympathy,
And where there’s any thought of love
He’s mighty sure to be.
So here’s to good old Kindliheart!
The best bet of them all,
Who never fails to do his part
In life’s high festival;
The worthy bearer of the crown
With which we top the Saint.
A bumper to his health, and down
With them that say he ain’t!

(more…)

Advertisements

December 24, 2017 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

CHRISTMAS EVE

by John Kendrick Bangs

Slyly twinkling in the skies,
Peeping from the Heaven’s blue,
Are a million starry eyes
Smiling, Sweetheart, down on you;
Peeping through the misty gauze
From their little homes above
While we wait for Santa Claus
With his gifts of Cheer and Love.
Hush-a-by, my Baby O!
Santa Claus is on the way,
And his sledges overflow
With the sweets of Christmas Day.
Lull-a-by!
Hush-a-by, my Baby O.
Santa Claus is coming by
With his pack of pretty toys.
Fast his speedy rein-deer fly
With their load of Christmas joys.
Now they flit across the moon,
Now they flicker o’er the gold[126]—
We shall hear their patter soon
On the roof-tops crisp and cold.
Hush-a-by, my Baby O!
Soon will sound the merry horn
That will usher in the glow
Of the golden Christmas morn.
Lull-a-by!
Hush-a-by, my Baby O.
Meet him half-way, Baby dear—
Join the jolly pranksome band
Of the Elf-men with their cheer
Waiting there in Slumberland.
Santa Claus must come along
Through the dreamy vales of Sleep.
There with all the Fairy throng
Let us too our vigil keep.
Hush-a-by, my Baby O.
Haste to Slumberland away,
Where the Fairy children go
On the Eve of Christmas Day.
Lull-a-by!
Hush-a-by, my Baby O.

(more…)

December 22, 2017 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

A MERRY CHRISTMAS PIE

by John Kendrick Bangs

Take a quart of pure Good Will,
Flavor well with Sympathy;
Boil it on the fire till
It is full of bubbling Glee.
Season with a dash of Cheer,
Mixed with Love and Tenderness;
Cool off in an atmosphere
That is mostly Kindliness.
Stick a dozen raisins in
Made of grapes from Laughter’s vine,
And such fruits as you may win
In a purely Jocund line.
Make a batter from the cream
Of Good Spirits running high,
And you’ll have a perfect dream
Of a Merry Christmas pie!

(more…)

December 21, 2017 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Wabi Sabi

Wabi Sabi

By Mark Reibstein

Illustrated by Ed Young

At last, the master
Says, “That’s hard to explain.” And
That is all she says.

Wabi Sabi, a little cat in Kyoto, Japan, had never thought much about her name until friends visiting from another land asked her owner what it meant. At last, the master says, “That’s hard to explain.” And that is all she says. This unsatisfying answer sets Wabi Sabi on a journey to uncover the meaning of her name, and on the way discovers what wabi sabi is: a Japanese philosophy of seeing beauty in simplicity, the ordinary, and imperfection. Using spare text and haiku, Mark Reibstein weaves an extraordinary story about finding real beauty in unexpected places. Caldecott Medal-winning artist Ed Young complements the lyrical text with breathtaking collages. Together, they illustrate the unique world view that is wabi sabi. Wabi Sabi is a unique picture book that clearly explains a new way of seeing the world to readers.

(more…)

October 24, 2017 at 5:25 am Leave a comment

Gimme that harvest moon!


By Kobayashi Issa

“Gimme that harvest moon!”
cries the crying
child

Translated by David G. Lanoue

(more…)

October 5, 2017 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Three Little Emigrants

by Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt
A Romance Of Cork Harbour, 1884

The soldier’s coat was English-red,
And Irish-red was Katy’s cheek:
“But he’s a handsome boy,” she said,
“And it’s to-night he means to speak.

“Who’s English-born is not to blame
For that! (He would become the green.)
Sure, but it is a burning shame
To think he will stand by the Queen.

“He and Sir Garnet, side-by-side,
Fought beautifully, though, out there, –
Faith! he’s splendid scar to hide
With all that elegant black hair!”

September 25, 2017 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

It is the summer’s great last heat…

It is the summer’s great last heat
It is the fall’s first chill: They meet.

Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt

September 22, 2017 at 5:25 am Leave a comment

Older Posts


Categories