Dear love, for nothing less than thee
Would I have broke this happy dream;
It was a theme
For reason, much too strong for fantasy,
Therefore thou wak’d’st me wisely; yet
My dream thou brok’st not, but continued’st it.
Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice
To make dreams truths, and fables histories;
Enter these arms, for since thou thought’st it best,
Not to dream all my dream, let’s act the rest.
As lightning, or a taper’s light,
Thine eyes, and not thy noise wak’d me;
Yet I thought thee
(For thou lovest truth) an angel, at first sight;
But when I saw thou sawest my heart,
And knew’st my thoughts, beyond an angel’s art,
When thou knew’st what I dreamt, when thou knew’st when
Excess of joy would wake me, and cam’st then,
I must confess, it could not choose but be
Profane, to think thee any thing but thee.
Coming and staying show’d thee, thee,
But rising makes me doubt, that now
Thou art not thou.
That love is weak where fear’s as strong as he;
‘Tis not all spirit, pure and brave,
If mixture it of fear, shame, honour have;
Perchance as torches, which must ready be,
Men light and put out, so thou deal’st with me;
Thou cam’st to kindle, goest to come; then I
Will dream that hope again, but else would die.
by John Donne
“If I live to be very old, all my memories of the glory days will grow vague and confused, till I won’t be certain any of it really happened. But the books will be there, on my shelves and in my head – the one enduring reality I can be certain of till the day I die.”
The lives I have lived
My sons, I have tried to give you gifts for your lives ahead
Standards to live by, skills to help earn your bread
But the greatest gift I can give
Is the lives I have lived
And the ability to live them too
The world of words I have shown you
Filing your young ears with stories each night
Weaving your own world into a fantasy one
Showing how to do things right
The gift of reading and living lives in stories
These are the lives I have lived
And they are my gift to you
Even when I am old and frail
I will still have these lives to live
Don’t let them tell you my life is worthless
When there is all that stories and dreams can give
I am living a wonderful life in the real world
And I trust that you will as well
when life is not what you want, remember my gift to you
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Re-blogged from 2016.
Sleep takes you
Sleep takes you and whirls you around,
Swirling you along over the ground.
Then the ground looms and you veer away, desperately climbing up towards day.
Head over heels you tumble and fall,
Speeding down like a plane caught in a stall.
Loud ringing sounds out and you wake with a start,
Lying in bed with a hammering heart.
Copyright © 2015 Kim Whysall-Hammond
….re-blogged from 2015….