Blow, blow, thou winter wind ( Read more... )

I've had enough of sleepless nights, of my unspoke grief, of my tired wisdom.
Come my treasure, my breath of life come and dress my wounds and be my cure.
Enough of words.
Come to me without a sound.

-Rumi

We are a liars, because ( Read more... )

I want you to know ( Read more... )

"Sorrow are the rags of old clothes and jackets that serve to cover, and then are taken off. That undressing, and the beautiful naked body underneath, is the sweetness that comes after grief." -- Rumi
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Apparently this is an excerpt from a longer poem entitled "The Guest House," from The Illuminated Rumi.

It hovers in dark corners ( Read more... )

by Robert Herrick

When words we want, Love teacheth to indite;
And what we blush to speak, she bids us write.
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In further honor of National Poetry Month, here is a poem B once told me he really likes. The subject is one that appeals very much to both of us ( Read more... )

I Am Not Yours ( Read more... )

Well, I shan't keep you in suspense any longer.

I'm terza rima, and I talk and smile.
Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away
I let mine out, and chatter all the while.

I'm rarely on my own - a wasted day
Is any day that's spent without a friend,
With nothing much to do or hear or say.

I like to be with people, and depend
On company for being ( Read more... )