Poetry

It's no secret I love to read. Poetry is a big favorite. Here is a couple of quotes from Elbert Hubbard and a couple other favorite poems of mine.


A friend is one who knows you and loves you just the same. Elbert Hubbard

My father always used to say that when you die, if you've got five real friends, you've had a great life."Elbert Hubbard

"Never Explain--your Friends do not need it and your Enemies will not believe you anyway."Elbert Hubbard


A Friend's Greeting

I'd like to be the sort of friend
thatyou have been to me;
I'd like to be the help thatyou've been
always glad to be;
I'd like to mean as much to you
each minute of the day
As you have meant, old friend of mine,
to me along the way.

I'd like to do the big things
and the splendid things for you,
To brush the gray from out your skies
and leave them only blue;
I'd like to say the kindly things
thatI so oft have heard,
And feel that I could rouse your soul
the way that mine you've stirred.

I'd like to give you back the joy
that you have given me,
Yet that were wishing you a need
I hope will never be;
I'd like to make you feel
as rich as I,who travel on
Undaunted in the darkest hours
with you to lean upon.

I'm wishing at this time
that I could but repay
A portion of the gladness
thatyou've strewn along my way;
And could I have one wish this year,
this only would it be:
I 'd like to be the sort of friend
that you have been to me.- Edgar A Guest -


And from The Spell of the Yukon By Robert Service

There's a land where the mountains are nameless,
And the rivers all run God knows where;
There are lives that are erring and aimless,
And deaths that just hang by a hair;
There are hardships that nobody reckons;
There are valleys unpeopled and still;
There's a land-- oh, it beckons and beckons,
And I want to go back-- and I will."

snd my all time favorite

TREES

by: Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)
THINK that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

and in the words of my father, "That's it for Today".