Fellowship

FELLOWSHIP

by Edgar Guest

The earth is warmed by the kindly sun,
but lives are warmed by the deeds of men
and their words of praise when our best we’ve done
and the parting wish that we’ll meet again.

The clouds may blanket the sky with gray
and the earth grow chill as the rain descends,
but he shall keep smiling along his way
whose heart is warmed by the love of friends.

It’s the glad “hello” and the handclasp true,
the smile of joy on a friendly face,
that means contentment for me and you
and makes of the earth a happy place.

It isn’t the gold that we strive to earn,
nor the fame we struggle so long to win,
for these are glories we’d quickly spurn
if never a kind heart took us in.

The poorest man on this earth is he
who has bartered his friendships for selfish gain,
who has sought advantage by trickery
and seeks for a welcoming smile in vain.

For the earth is warmed by a higher plan,
and he shall be glad when his work is done
who has kept the faith with his fellow man,
and the peace of his own conscience won.

“Something to Sing About”

Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning: NATION

Since everyone has a nation, a place they call home, and hopefully likes their own land, there should be lots of upbeat responses to this one.

According to some United Nation study on health and quality of life, Canada is one of the best countries in the world to live in. Having travelled across this fair land and lived in six provinces, I can say this is so: I do indeed live in the best country in the world. 🙂

I lived with my aunt & uncle in British Columbia for a year when I was around four years old, so can’t really count that as practical experience, but as an adult I’ve lived in Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Ontario, and Quebec. The only provinces we haven’t visited at least briefly are Newfoundland and Prince Edward Island. In spite of the occasional winter chill, I feel our quality of life has been “as good as it gets” all across our glorious nation.

According to Wiki: “Something to Sing About” is a patriotic song written by folk singer Oscar Brand that sings the praises of the many different regions of Canada.

Of Micros and Macros

The Ragtag Daily Prompt word this morning is MACRO

This is a word I’ve had only a passing acquaintance with. As in, heard it used; had no clue. So I checked in dictionary, I see that MACRO is the big picture whereas MICRO is the small one.

The Canadian Oxford Dictionary tells me:
Macro: A series of abbreviated instructions expanded automatically when required. (An accordion deep inside in your computer?)
Macro- combining form: long, large, large scale, comprehensive
Macrocosm: the universe, the whole of all nature
Macroeconomics: the study of large scale or general economic factors
(Macro is the Federal Budget; microcosm is our family budget.)

I’ve heard of micro-poetry, so I suppose the opposite is macro-poetry? As in, the macro-poem being the old familiar one by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and the micro-poem being my senryu version. What do you think?

THE DAY IS DONE

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me,
That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor,
And tonight I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

Flourish.plainer

senryu version:

soft patter of words
the poet’s pen and your voice
night’s harmony

“Wee timorous beastie” indeed!

It’s Wednesday again and Biff seems to be AWOL as yet. Nevertheless, I’ll do a Whatnot Wednesday post anyway — mainly because I don’t know what else to do with this verse-of-sorts. 🙂

The following poem is based on a real life experience…

The moon rains silver on my window
pierces the darkness of my eleventh hour,
draws thin slats on my carpet as
warm ambiance enfolds me like a cloak
woven of droopy eyelids, wool-gathering.

My book slips from my hand; sinking into
the fronds of fern casting their shadows
in dark splashes on the carpet
rubbing the rich brown of the old
grandfather clock poised to chime.

Shattering my doze like a snare drum,
the steady rustle I have come to dread.
That MOUSE again!
Intrepid raider of the cat-food dish.
Its toes scratch on the floor tile as it creeps
forward toward its goal – then I hear
that brazen crunching I detest.

It knows – I’m positive it bides its time until
some telepathy reveals to its pea-brain
when I am most vulnerable. Too burdened
and half asleep — can it hear me breathe — 
to give chase. Then out it creeps
to fill its emptiness with a cat food snack,
which it erroneously believes
has been provided for its benefit.

I will the clock to strike, to boom
a hickory, dickory, dock. A horrid shock
that causes said mouse to die of fright.
Yet Grandfather has nothing to say just yet,
so
I sit here trembling in the darkness
while my cat, a warm ball on my lap,
snores on, oblivious to mouse or man.
Waking, only to glance at me in peeved disdain,

when I screech, “You’re FIRED!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In my dreams…

Cat + Mouse.K Tyl