Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Saturday, April 5, 2014
April
April! April! April!
With a mist of green on the trees--
And a scent of the warm brown broken earth
On every wandering breeze;
What, though thou be changeful,
Though thy gold turns to grey again,
There's a robin out yonder singing,
Singing in the rain.
April! April! April!
'Tis the Northland hath longed for thee,
She hath gazed toward the South with aching eyes
Full long and patiently.
Come now--tell us, sweeting,
Thou laggard so lovely and late,
Dost know there's no joy like the joy that comes
When hearts have learned to wait?
With a mist of green on the trees--
And a scent of the warm brown broken earth
On every wandering breeze;
What, though thou be changeful,
Though thy gold turns to grey again,
There's a robin out yonder singing,
Singing in the rain.
April! April! April!
'Tis the Northland hath longed for thee,
She hath gazed toward the South with aching eyes
Full long and patiently.
Come now--tell us, sweeting,
Thou laggard so lovely and late,
Dost know there's no joy like the joy that comes
When hearts have learned to wait?
Virna Sheard
April Flower
Bloom for me,
My April flower.
Show your beauty,
I'll take a gander.
The wind scatters your scent
Giving me the feeling of heaven.
You're the perfection i've dreamt,
The one that i've chosen.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
And let me see,
Your petals that matches no other.
I know you're not mine
And you did not grew for me
I can only see you again this time
Unable to resist fate's cruelty.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
Though we're not destined to be,
Stay in my heart and take shelter.
In my heart, you will not wilt,
You will eternally bloom..
Even if i am burdened by this guilt,
and love is my certained doom.
Bloom for me for the last time,
At least i can call this moment mine
Ignore my reasons that doesn't rhyme,
Show me your beauty that i can't define.
Bloom..for all eternity..April Flower.
My April flower.
Show your beauty,
I'll take a gander.
The wind scatters your scent
Giving me the feeling of heaven.
You're the perfection i've dreamt,
The one that i've chosen.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
And let me see,
Your petals that matches no other.
I know you're not mine
And you did not grew for me
I can only see you again this time
Unable to resist fate's cruelty.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
Though we're not destined to be,
Stay in my heart and take shelter.
In my heart, you will not wilt,
You will eternally bloom..
Even if i am burdened by this guilt,
and love is my certained doom.
Bloom for me for the last time,
At least i can call this moment mine
Ignore my reasons that doesn't rhyme,
Show me your beauty that i can't define.
Bloom..for all eternity..April Flower.
John Paul Ang
Lady April
This day…awoke April
In a terrible mood
If months had bad hair days
Then this one certainly could
This day dawned early
With cold and grouchy demeanor
Obviously having awakened
On the wrong side of her bed
With un-April like winds
That sliced like a knife
And had all the bad manners
Of moody March instead
I like to ascribe to the months
Their own personalities and ways
From the surreal colors of September
To the mild, merry manners of May
But I also respect, and know when to stay
Inside, cozy, warm
and totally out of her way
When lady April is having a bad ‘air day'
I know that the morrow will likely dawn warm and showery
She'll dawn with a yawn and ne'er admit
That she's e'en the slightest bit sorry
April's snits, as you know, ne'er last very long
She beckons us out to warm breezes
To tease us, (and a few sneezes maybe)
And just like the lady she is, and pleases to be
Will never admit she was wrong
In a terrible mood
If months had bad hair days
Then this one certainly could
This day dawned early
With cold and grouchy demeanor
Obviously having awakened
On the wrong side of her bed
With un-April like winds
That sliced like a knife
And had all the bad manners
Of moody March instead
I like to ascribe to the months
Their own personalities and ways
From the surreal colors of September
To the mild, merry manners of May
But I also respect, and know when to stay
Inside, cozy, warm
and totally out of her way
When lady April is having a bad ‘air day'
I know that the morrow will likely dawn warm and showery
She'll dawn with a yawn and ne'er admit
That she's e'en the slightest bit sorry
April's snits, as you know, ne'er last very long
She beckons us out to warm breezes
To tease us, (and a few sneezes maybe)
And just like the lady she is, and pleases to be
Will never admit she was wrong
David Whalen
Trust A Tree
Trust a tree
Here in tree
You find life
Life is beautiful
See the beauty
Enjoy the life.
Smile and smile
Nothing to weep
So long as
There is a tree
Trust the tree
It is life.
Sing a song
With the tree
If you can
And find the things
You have within
Grace of the tree.
Get everything here
In tree, trust the tree
The tree is life's spring
Summer and rain and also winter
Trust the tree, the tree is
Here only for You.
Here in tree
You find life
Life is beautiful
See the beauty
Enjoy the life.
Smile and smile
Nothing to weep
So long as
There is a tree
Trust the tree
It is life.
Sing a song
With the tree
If you can
And find the things
You have within
Grace of the tree.
Get everything here
In tree, trust the tree
The tree is life's spring
Summer and rain and also winter
Trust the tree, the tree is
Here only for You.
gajanan mishra
Trees
Trees, trees,
Bustling with leaves
Waves at clouds
And dances in the breeze,
They provide a canopy
From the summer heat
A natural retreat
For both men and beast.
Tree, trees,
Hustling with leave
Provide shelter
To birds and bees,
They bring serenity
And heavenly peace
And provide food
To men and beast.
Trees, trees,
Rustling in the breeze
Supplies oxygen
All for free,
Wood and timber
For our daily needs
Trees, trees,
Are great friends indeed.
Bustling with leaves
Waves at clouds
And dances in the breeze,
They provide a canopy
From the summer heat
A natural retreat
For both men and beast.
Tree, trees,
Hustling with leave
Provide shelter
To birds and bees,
They bring serenity
And heavenly peace
And provide food
To men and beast.
Trees, trees,
Rustling in the breeze
Supplies oxygen
All for free,
Wood and timber
For our daily needs
Trees, trees,
Are great friends indeed.
Rajesh Thankappan
Sunday, March 30, 2014
The snows and ice have (mostly) melted away. The sun shines warmer and longer. soon the fields will be active with farmers tilling the land to prepare to grow their crops, the crops to feed people, livestock, and agribusiness productions. this is a view of the heartland waking from winter slumber just before the season of growth is begun.
“The soil is the great connector of lives, the source and destination of all. It is the healer and restorer and resurrector, by which disease passes into health, age into youth, death into life. Without proper care for it we can have no community, because without proper care for it we can have no life.” Wendell Berry
“When it is understood that one loses joy and happiness in the attempt to possess them, the essence of natural farming will be realized. The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops, but the cultivation and perfection of human beings.” Masanobu Fukuoka
“A farmer friend of mine told me recently about a busload of middle school children who came to his farm for a tour. The first two boys off the bus asked, "Where is the salsa tree?" They thought they could go pick salsa, like apples and peaches. Oh my. What do they put on SAT tests to measure this? Does anybody care? How little can a person know about food and still make educated decisions about it? Is this knowledge going to change before they enter the voting booth? Now that's a scary thought.” Joel Salatin
“This whole effort to rebuild and stabilize a countryside is not without
its disappointments and mistakes... What matter though these temporary
growing pains when one can cast his eye upon the hills and see
hard-boiled farmers who have spent their lives destroying land now
carrying water by hand to their new plantations”Aldo Leopold
“Why does no one speak of the cultural advantages of the country? For
example, is a well groomed, ecologically kept, sustainably fertile farm
any less cultural, any less artful, than paintings of fat angels on
church ceilings?”
“Sustainable farms are to today's headlong rush toward global destruction what the monasteries were to the Dark Ages: places to preserve human skills and crafts until some semblance of common sense and common purpose returns to the public mind.”
Gene Logsdon
“The soil is the great connector of lives, the source and destination of all. It is the healer and restorer and resurrector, by which disease passes into health, age into youth, death into life. Without proper care for it we can have no community, because without proper care for it we can have no life.” Wendell Berry
“When it is understood that one loses joy and happiness in the attempt to possess them, the essence of natural farming will be realized. The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops, but the cultivation and perfection of human beings.” Masanobu Fukuoka
“A farmer friend of mine told me recently about a busload of middle school children who came to his farm for a tour. The first two boys off the bus asked, "Where is the salsa tree?" They thought they could go pick salsa, like apples and peaches. Oh my. What do they put on SAT tests to measure this? Does anybody care? How little can a person know about food and still make educated decisions about it? Is this knowledge going to change before they enter the voting booth? Now that's a scary thought.” Joel Salatin
“Sustainable farms are to today's headlong rush toward global destruction what the monasteries were to the Dark Ages: places to preserve human skills and crafts until some semblance of common sense and common purpose returns to the public mind.”
Gene Logsdon
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