Sunday Morning Sunshine: Autumn's Bright Blue Weather

 Autumn's Bright Blue Weather

--Helen Hunt Jackson

O suns and skies and clouds of June,

And flowers of June together,

Ye cannot rival for one hour

October's bright blue weather.

When loud the bumblebee makes haste,

Belated, thriftless vagrant,

And Golden Rod is dying fast,

And lanes with grapes are fragrant.

When on the ground red apples lie

In piles like jewels shining,

And redder still on old stone walls,

Are leaves of woodbine twining.

When springs run low, and on the brooks,

In idle golden freighting,

Bright leaves sink noiseless in the bush

Of woods, for winter waiting.

O suns and skies and flowers of June,

Count all your boasts together,

Love loveth best of all the year

October's bright blue weather.

Sunday Morning Sunshine: Happy Easter!

 He Lives

Blest morning! whose first dawning ray

Beheld the Son of God

Arise triumphant from the grave.

Wrapt in the silence of the tomb

The Great Redeemer lay,

Till the revolving skies had brought

The third, the appointed day.

Hell and the grave combined their force

To hold our Lord in vain;

Sudden the Conqueror arose,

And burst their feeble chain.

Salvation and immortal praise

To our victorious King!

Let Heaven and earth, and rocks and seas,

With glad hosannas ring.

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,

To God whom we adore,

Be glory, as it was, and is,

And shall be evermore. Amen.

Sunday Morning Sunshine: God's World

 God's World

O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!

Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!

Thy mists, that roll and rise!

Thy Woods, this lovely day, that ache and sag

And all but cry with color! That gaunt crag

To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!

Long have I known a glory in it all,

But never knew I this;

here such a passion is

As stretcheth me apart--Lord, I do fear

Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year;

My soul is all but out of me--let fall

No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.

--Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sunday Morning Sunshine: Dandelions

 Dandelions

Over the climbing meadows

Where swallow-shadows float,

These are the small gold buttons

On earth's green, windy coat.

--Frances M. Frost

Sunday Morning Peace: Mother

 

 

Memo for a Lady

Never say again you are old!

Have you considered how much longer

Ago than you, the pyramids were created,

And the temple of Diana at Ephesus,

And even Venus? They are old.

 

And never say you're not attractive.

Remember that for us

Who look deeper than skin

And see your thought flowering

Goldenly as sunflowers, and more tall,

Hear your heart singing sometimes

And feel the warmth of its love,

And join in your laughter often,

 

You are beautiful!

 

--Elaine V. Emans

You're forever young now, Mama, dancing on heaven's golden streets!

My Mama's Faith
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQJwlNqLNnQ

Sunday Morning Sunshine: Spring and All It's Beauty

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud,

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

Have a wonderful Spring Day! 

Sunday Morning Sunshine: Poems to Delight

Daffadowndillly

Has come to town,

In a yellow petticoat

And a green gown.

--Mother Goose

In spite of cold and chills

that usher in the early spring

We have the daffodils.

--Kikurio

A kite, a sky, and a good firm breeze,

and acres of ground away from trees,

and one hundred yards of clean, strong string--

O boy, o boy! I call that Spring!

--Mark Sawyer

Happy Spring!

Sunday Morning Sunshine: I Like Animals

CAT

My cat,

Is quiet.

She moves without a sound.

Sometimes she stretches herself curving

On tiptoe.

Sometimes she crouches low

and creeping.

Sometimes she rubs herself against a chair,

And there

With a miew and a miew

And a purrrr...purrrr...purrrr...

She curls up

And goes to sleep.

My cat

Lives through a black hole

Under the house.

So one day I

Crawled in after her.

And it was dark

And I sat

And didn't know 

Where to go.

And then--

Two yellow-white

Round little lights

Came moving...moving...toward me.

And there

With a miew and a miew

And a purrrr...purrrr....purrrr

My cat

Rubbed, soft against me.

And I knew

The lights

Were MY CAT'S EYES

In the dark.

--Dorothy Baruch

1933

Sunday Sunshine: A Taste of Robert Browning

The Year's at the Spring

The year's at the spring

And the day's at the morn;

Morning's at seven;

The hillside's dew-petaled;

The lark's on the wing;

The snail's on the thorn;

God's in his heaven--

All's right with the world!

--Robert Browning

Sunday Sunshine: A Look Into the Past

The Old Wooden Bucket

How dear to this heart are the scenes 

of my childhood,

When fond recollections presents them to view!

The orchard, the meadow, 

the deep-tangled wildwood,

And every loved spot which my infancy knew;

The wide-spreading pond, 

and the mill that stood by it,

The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell;

The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,

And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well!

The old wooden bucket, the iron-bound bucket,

The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.

                                        --Samuel Woodworth

Sunday Sunshine: A Vagabond Song

A Vagabond Song

THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple  and the crimson keeping time.
The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.
There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

Bliss Carman. 1861

Sunday Morning Peace: April

The Day Before April

May Carolyn Davis

The day before April,

Alone, alone,

I walked in the woods

and sat on a stone.

I sat on a broad stone

and sang to the birds.

The tune was God's making,

But I made the words.

Quote:
I don't believe the muse visits you. I believe that you visit the muse. --Michael Lewis


Blessings

Sunday Morning Peace: Kindness

One Kind Word

Drop a word of cheer and kindness--

just a flash and it is gone,

But a half a hundred ripples

go circling on and on.

Bearing hope and joy and comfort

on each splashing, dashing wave,

Till you can't conceive the volume

of the one kind word you gave.

Drop a word of Gospel kindness--

in a minute you forget,

But the gladness that it started

swells and circles even yet.

And you've rolled a wave of comfort

whose sweet music can be heard

Over miles and miles of water,

just by dropping one kind word.

--Christian Trails

Sunday Morning Peace: November

Something Told the Wild Geese

Something told the wild geese

It was time to go

Though the fields lay golden

Something whispered, "Snow."

Leaves were turning colors,

Berries, luster-glossed,

But beneath warm feathers

Something cautioned, "Frost."

All the sagging orchards

Steamed with amber spice,

But each wild beast stiffened

At remembered ice.

Something told the wild geese

It was time to fly--

Summer sun was on their wings,

Winter in their cry.

--Rachel Field

Blessings!

Sunday Morning Peace: Friends, a poem by Karen Double

We Need More Friends

When going thru a sticky mess

A friend is better to possess

Than wealth or fame

Your name could claim

We need more friends of godliness.

The sleepless nights arrest your frame

You feel somehow that you're to blame

Feelings of dread won't pass away

And somehow worry fills your day.

We need more friends who stay the same.

A friend who's strong; quick to defend

A broken heart that seams can't mend

Dark the shadows and sorrows deep

The mountains high and all so steep

We need more friends true to the end.

How blest the tho't that Jesus is

Our friend if we are truly his.

And friends on earth do comfort us,

Encourage and help strengthen us.

In prayer, in faith, our vict'ry is.

--Karen Double

Blessings!

Thoughts on an Easter Prayer

Sharing with you today a beautiful meditation,

and in parentheses, my words:

At this holy season

(that I might have peace and that 

I might be ready to hear your whispered words to me)

Teach us to be patient

(oh, how I need this!)

and help us to be kind

(thankfully, I do have a caring heart and a kind spirit).

Give us the reassurance

that you are always near

to guide us and protect u

in this violent world of fear,

(what confidence we can have in our God!).

Help us all to realize

There is untold strength and power

When we seek the Lord and find Him

In our meditation hour. --Helen S. Rice

(What a privilege we have to realizing God's power and strength!

What a blessing to be able to seek and find him!

Amen and amen).

Many blessings!

Sunday Morning Peace: November Quotes

November is indeed a dreary month, but what inspiration it gives! 

"Even if something is left undone, everyone must take time to sit still and watch the leaves turn."  
                                    -   Elizabeth Lawrence

"Pleasures lie thickest where 

no pleasures seem:

There's not a leaf that falls 

upon the ground

But holds some joy of silence or of sound,

Some spirits begotten of a summer dream."

-   Laman Blanchard

"I saw old Autumn in the misty morn

Stand shadow less like silence, 

listening to silence."   

-   Thomas Hood, Ode: Autumn, 1827

T   hanks for time to be together, turkey, talk, and tangy weather.

H  for harvest stored away, home, and hearth, and holiday.

A  for autumn's frosty art, and abundance in the heart.

N  for neighbors, and November, nice things, new things to remember.

K  for kitchen, kettles' croon, kith and kin expected soon.

S  for sizzles, sights, and sounds, and something special that about.

    That spells THANKS for joy in living and a jolly good Thanksgiving.                   

-   Aileen Fisher, All in a Word

Enjoy all seasons! 

Revel in their secrets!

Blessings

Sunday Morning Peace

October

A Vagabond Song

There is something in the autumn 

that is native to my blood,

Touch of manner, hint of mood,

And my heart is like a rhyme.

With the yellow and the purple and the crimson 

keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry

of bugles going by,

And my lonely spirit thrills

To see the smoky asters

like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir,

We must rise and follow her,

When from every hill of flame,

She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

--Bliss Camen

Sunday Morning Peace

October is a Gypsy

 

October is a barefoot Gypsy,
running wild and free.
Snatching jewels of red and orange
As she darts from tree to tree.

October with her long, dark tresses,
Resplendent in her leafy dresses,
Dances now in wild delight,
Bewitching everyone in sight.

Her dark skin glows with every sunset,
Black eyes flash at each golden dawn,
The rustling of her skirts makes music,
As faster now she dances on.

Till just before the spell is broken,
By winter's first, small frosty token,
When Gypsy-like she steals away
Into a new November day.

--Elaine Martin

Wild and wonderful blessings!

Sunday Morning Peace

LOVE THIS!

If God Chose!

 

 

If God chose just the tall and handsome,

Saul he'd choose we all agree.

But poor Zacchaeus, short and homely,

Would be left up in that tree.

 

If God chose just the wealthy,

Joseph, he could surely use,

But the lad with loaves and fishes,

I'm afraid that he'd refuse.

 

 

 

 

If God looked for those with wisdom

Solomon could pass the test,

While the man possessed with devils

Is refused his deep request.

 

 

If God sought for men of strength

Look at Samson standing there,

As poor Lazarus, sick and trembling,

crawls away in sad despair.

 

 

 

If God only sought the worthy,

Perhaps Timothy--who can tell?

But this takes all hope away,

From the woman at the well.

 

 

But his call to men is always,

"Come ye, whosoever will.

From the least unto the greatest,

Come to me, I love you still."

 

 

Blessings!