Category Archives: NOW, VOYAGER.

The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening. Wallace Stevens (1879-1955)

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The Promenade Walk

Silhouettes and pirouettes
And walking with my baby
All along the promenade walk
Days of Summer wine and roses
Frozen treats and Grandma Moses
All along the promenade walk

We would walk along the old Atlantic
Hand in hand we’d run along the sand
When the waves came crashing in you’d be frantic
I would hold you close and pat your hand

It’s Saturday night the time is right
Let’s kick up our heels and  go dancing
All along the promenade walk
The kids are spoiled so let’s get oiled
Let our hair down and go prancing
All along the promenade walk

We can do the Shag and the Black Bottom
Charleston at the Ritz is just our scene
We’ll Foxtrot and then Waltz because we’ve got ’em
Cool our thirst with spritz and tangerine

Silhouettes and pirouettes
And walking with my baby
All along the promenade walk
We’ll hit the clubs and drink with stars
And all that jazz and hootchie-kootchie bars
All along the promenade walk

I’ve lived to feel how pride may part  Spirits, tho’ matched like hand and glove. Coventry Patmore.

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What nutriment can I extract from these bare twigs? Starvation stares me in the face. “Nay, nay,” said a nuthatch, making its way, head downward, about a bare hickory close by, “The nearer the bone, the sweeter the meat…. If at any time the weather is too bleak and cold for you, keep the sunny side of the trunk, for a wholesome and inspiring warmth is there, such as the summer never afforded….” “Hear! hear!” screamed the jay from a neighboring tree, where I had heard a tittering for some time, “winter has a concentrated and nutty kernel, if you know where to look for it.”… [A] red squirrel… came running down a slanting bough, and as he stopped twirling a nut, called out rather impudently, “Look here! just get a snug-fitting fur coat and a pair of fur gloves like mine, and you may laugh at a northeast storm.

Henry David Thoreau, Nov. 8, 1858

http://www.quotegarden.com/winter.html

There are as many paths as there are travellers.

http://www.bravosolutions.com/travel_proverbs.php

 

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“When we get out of the glass bottle of our ego and when we escape like the squirrels in the cage of our personality and get into the forest again, we shall shiver with cold and fright. But things will happen to us so that we don’t know ourselves. Cool, unlying life will rush in.”

– D. H. Lawrence

If one imitates the upright, one becomes upright; if one imitates the crooked, one becomes crooked.

http://www.motherlandnigeria.com/proverbs.html

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“The past doesn’t exist. There is nothing to be sorry for. Today is when we start to live. Look… look at the sea. The sea has no past. It is just there. It will never ask us to explain. The stars, the moon are there to light our way, to shine for us. What do they care what might have happened in the past? They are accompanying us, and are happy with that; can you see them shine? The stars are twinkling in the sky; would they do that if the past mattered? Wouldn’t there be a huge storm if God wanted to punish us? We are alone, you and I, with no past, no memories, no guilt, nothing that can stand in the way of… our love.”

― Ildefonso Falcones, La catedral del mar

a thousand nows the busy hummingbird in the garden

http://www.hummingbirdworld.com/h/haiku.htm

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Our tiny but beautiful friend, the Hummingbird, is the totem for Clarity.

“For those who confuse you, recognize that their confusion is theirs and your clarity is yours.”

― Barbara Marciniak, Family of Light: Pleiadian Tales and Lessons in Living

"Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead." Louisa May Alcott

kbfromjs

A heart in love with beauty never grows old.

Turkish

Ukiona vyaelea vimeundwa. If you see vessels afloat, remember they have been built. Swahili.

http://www.chineblog.com/2009/10/a-nice-proverb-for-a-sunday-morning/

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In the mornings, ashamed—
    ’Twas the last drink he blamed,
Though the first was the matter with Jerry,
    With his nerve out of joint,
    He’d sneak down to Blue’s Point,
And he’d cross by the horse-and-cart ferry,
Like a thief—by the horse-and-cart ferry.

Henry Lawson

1867-1922, written in 1908.

OLDPOETRY.COM

foto – yamba-iluka ferry dec 2009