Poetic vs Pragmatic

"Fear not for the future Weep not for the past"

It sounds so exciting...but how can it last?
A flaming, a laughing, a life for the present,
And why should you think about all that's unpleasant?
Why have a regret?
Why care about duty?
Just live like a butterfly--savor the beauty!

So history happens again and again
And man never learns from the places he's been.

Compassion and caution are lost in the laughter
And nobody grows up. . . or cares what comes after.

But mankind is learning, and much to their sorrow....

to weep for the past,
or tremble tomorrow.

Memories on the Wall

A well-worn den with a rocking chair,

painted pictures on every wall.

See, by the window, that Chinese junk—

a blazing smudge on murky jade waters.

Across the room on the opposite wall, stands a sturdy prairie pinto, packed with an old brown buck-skinner’s bags; he waits in silent weariness for his warming fire to catch.

Between the two, above the couch, stretches a long, blue picture in shining oils: broken shards of castle wall, desolate wailing out of the salty fog.

Is this the house of a roving traveler? An explorer who hung his memories like pelts?

No, simply the house of a daring dreamer…who sat and read and filled with wonder, the ears of lively, little listeners?

Their proud faces cover the final wall.

This was a Carry-On Tuesday prompt taken from a quote by Sir Joshua Reynolds, an 18th century painter: "A room hung with pictures is a room hung with thoughts."

Perspective

"It was the best of times; it was the worst of times."
depending, of course, on where you stood.

White Christmas!
A blizzard came.
Lovely.
Inside, the tree and sparkling lights
Outside, the welcome storm
Such dancing flakes of glorious bluster against my warm window pane.
Pale, soft beauty--the howling wind and ice...ice

Sudden black sheet and a high line pole
Father and daughter on their way to Christmas dinner.
Three giggling teen-aged girls out for a spin on the slippery road
Thrown from their vehicle
Onto the treacherous snow.
All five...
They didn't survive.

Same Snow


Carry On Tuesday

Two Lines from Frost and more...

A lantern light from deeper in the barn
Shone on a man and woman in the door

“I’m sorry, Dear, I cannot carry on.”
He said “but such a place; a filthy floor.”
Look how the birds sit hovered in the rafters,
She said, “It’s warm. The streets out here are cold.
I’m over-weary…see, there’s straw…way back there,
And some of it might not be terribly old.

They stayed the night
The child she bore
Made history
And more…





Carry on Tuesday--writing practice