Month: January 2013

Sitting By A Bush In Broad Sunlight By Robert Frost

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Robert Frost

When I spread out my hand here today,
I catch no more than a ray
To feel of between thumb and fingers;
No lasting effect of it lingers.

There was one time and only the one
When dust really took in the sun;
And from that one intake of fire
All creatures still warmly suspire.

And if men have watched a long time
And never seen sun-smitten slime
Again come to life and crawl off,
We not be too ready to scoff.

God once declared he was true
And then took the veil and withdrew,
And remember how final a hush
Then descended of old on the bush.

God once spoke to people by name.
The sun once imparted its flame.
One impulse persists as our breath;
The other persists as our faith.

Hmmm Facebook Part 24

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Hmmm Facebook Part 18I have no issues at all when it comes to adding friends on Facebook. However, I exceeded my allotted friend count a very long time ago. All Facebook  users should know by now that ordinary profile-pages are only allowed 5000.

So, before sending friend requests and friend suggestions, please look at my profile-page first (From my understanding, Facebook  is supposed to notify people that I have exceeded the specified limit of 5000). Although I am filled to capacity, anyone is free to subscribe to my Facebook  updates.

In the future, Facebook  might consider increasing the so-called friend limit to a larger number (Hmmm. There is a part of me which believes that Facebook  will not be doing that anytime soon).

Super Bowl Broccomole

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vegan_powerHere is another great vegan recipe from, Michele Borboa: Super Bowl Broccomole

Bashar | Atlantis

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darryl-anka-headshotYou can find out more by visiting this link: Bashar | Atlantis

A Dream Of Trees By Mary Oliver

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Mary Oliver

There is a thing in me that dreamed of trees,
A quiet house, some green and modest acres
A little way from every troubling town,
A little way from factories, schools, laments.
I would have time, I thought, and time to spare,
With only streams and birds for company.
To build out of my life a few wild stanzas.
And then it came to me, that so was death,
A little way away from everywhere.

There is a thing in me still dreams of trees,
But let it go. Homesick for moderation,
Half the world’s artists shrink or fall away.
If any find solution, let him tell it.
Meanwhile I bend my heart toward lamentation
Where, as the times implore our true involvement,
The blades of every crisis point the way.

I would it were not so, but so it is.
Who ever made music of a mild day?