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Quote by Anne Elisabeth Stengl

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Anne Elisabeth Stengl

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“TO MY DOG BLANCO My dear dumb friend, low lying here, A willing vassal at my feet, — Glad partner of my home and fare. My shadow in the street, — I look into your great brown eyes, Where love and loyal homage shine, And wonder where the difference lies Between your soul and mine. For all of good that I have found Within myself or human kind Hath royally informed and crowned Your gentle heart and mind. I scan the whole broad earth around For that one heart which, real and true, Bears friendship without end or bound. And find the prize in you. I trust you as I trust the stars; Nor cruel loss, nor scoff, nor pride. Nor beggary, nor dungeon bars. Can move you from my side. As patient under injury As any Christian saint of old; As gentle as a lamb with me, But with your brothers bold. More playful than a frolic boy, More watchful than a sentinel — By day and night your constant joy To guard and please me well. I clasp your head upon my breast — The while you whine and lick my hand — And thus our friendship is confessed. And thus we understand. Ah, Blanco I Did I worship God As truly as you worship me, Or follow where my Master trod, With your humility — Did I sit fondly at His feet. As you, dear Blanco, sit at mine, And watch Him with a love as sweet. My life would grow divine. - Josiah Gilbert Holland”

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Book:Songs of Men, an Anthology Selected and Arranged By Robert Frothingham
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“It rises again, the frenzied smoke as the phoenix rises from the ashes shadows of dreams on the hills a melange of memories She speaks in unheard words poignant with meanings deep another bird of silence caws as the breeze swirls and spins My grandmother told me stories about the mountains and the lakes I saw the rainbows of hope swaying to the music as the daffodils of joy to the rain The opalescent sky looks melancholy as the clouds of Alzheimer's hover her life perhaps she has not forgotten everything I hope the moon tells her about me I keep searching for my footsteps now smudged in the sands of time like the proverbial breeze that drifts but never gets to stay a while Gazing at old photographs, I keep the memories treasured and vaulted a boulevard of thatched moments a promenade of myriad stories!”

StoriesPoetryMemoriesPoemMoonGrandmotherDeepPoets And PoetryMeaningsAlzheimer S Disease
Author:Avijeet Das
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“I’ve found that the best way to live one’s life Is above the fog of negative thought, With gossiping lips outside of earshot, Keeping harsh criticism far less rife. I’ve found that the best way to avoid strife Is by sharing with others who have not, Seeing the good, speaking kindness a lot, Burying hatchets as well as sharp knives. Every compassionate deed we have sown Lifts a heavy burden from a brother. Each positive thought and comment we own Extends joy and love to one another. Life was not meant to be traveled alone. It is where we learn we need each other.”

PoetryPoemRichelle GoodrichRichelle E GoodrichSonnetPoetry Life
Book:A Heart Made of Tissue Paper
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