Two Kinds of Friends

Thoughts
by Sara Teasdale

When I am all alone
envy me most,
then my thoughts flutter round me
in a glimmering host;

some dressed in silver,
some dressed in white,
each like a taper
blossoming light;

Most of them merry,
some of them grave,
each of them lithe
as willows that wave;

some bearing violets,
some bearing bay,
one with a burning rose
hidden away.

When I am all alone
envy me then,
for I have better friends
than women and men.

From The Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale
Last renewal 1937 by Sara Teasdale Filsinger
Published by The Macmillan Company

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A Mile With Me
By Henry van Dyke
1852 — 1933

Oh, who will walk a mile with me
along life’s merry way?
A comrade blithe and full of glee
who dares to laugh out loud and free
and let his frolic fancy play
like a happy child, through the flowers gay
that fill the field and fringe the way
where he walks a mile with me.

And who will walk a mile with me
along life’s weary way?
A friend whose heart has eyes to see
the stars shine out o’er the darkening lea,
and the quiet rest at the end of the day.
A friend who knows and dares to say
the brave, sweet words that cheer the way
where he walks a mile with me.

With such a comrade, such a friend,
I fain would walk till journey’s end
through summer sunshine, winter rain,
and then — farewell, we shall meet again!

My response to the Ragtag Daily prompt: FRIEND

My Friend

My friend, blessing rare,
jewel of my memories,
depth of wisdom probed

Monday morning and the laundry is a-washing. I’ve been sorting through some older posts on another blog and found this haiku. Hope you enjoy it.

I’m thankful for precious friends like this. Friends with insight and heart. Friends with whom I can share any thoughts or regrets and know they won’t rebuke me for my errors or ridicule me for my ideas. I hope you have a friend like this, too. 🙂

He Who Has It All

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“The only gift for the man who has everything is sympathy.” — Mildred Murdoch

The Gift Givers

Six of us gathered together;
we were eager to honor a friend.
For something of gold or of silver
we were wiling our money to spend.
We were anxious to give him a token,
a watch or a pin or a ring,
as a permanent symbol of friendship,
but no one could think of a thing
which he needed or said that he wanted;
no gift which our love could supply,
which already his purse hadn’t purchased,
and better than what we might buy.

A dinner? He dines on the finest!
A watch? He now carries the best!
Already we knew him provided
with all that our minds could suggest.
So we gave up the thought of a token,
and sent him a feebly drawn scroll
as a mark of our lasting affection
which his children might someday unroll.
But I couldn’t help thinking that evening:
the happiest mortals who live
are those who have left to their friendships
just something or other to give.

The joy or surprise and the gladness
of owning a gift from a friend
are thrills that can never be purchased
though millions a rich man may spend.
And there is a rapture in giving
which friendship is eager to know,
for love and affection seek ever
some token of worth to bestow.
Though all men are toiling for riches,
may it never be said while I live
I furnished my life so completely
that friends could find nothing to give.

.
From his book, Collected Verse of Edgar A Guest
© 1934 by The Reilly & Lee Company