I know you're going crazy,
I've been there too.
I can see how the weight is making your knees bend,
Let me take some of it from you.
Don't keep yourself closed off,
I am here for you to open up and let go.
There is so much you can't forget or forgive,
Let me help you cope, we can work things out together.
I hear the pain in your voice,
You need me now.
Don't worry, I'll move heaven and hell to get there.
You can't talk, you won't talk about it,
I understand.
Put your worries in my hands.
Lay your head down,
And believe that I will do anything to stop your tears.
I want to be able to give you the strength to keep going.
Link arms with me, Let's move on,
As one living, breathing, loving, being.
Know that you can put faith in me.
I will be your rock, I will be your dwelling,
I am here with you, for you always.
- Alissa Krull -
A Charm Invests A Face
by Emily Dickinson
A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld.
The lady dare not lift her veil
For fear it be dispelled.But peers beyond her mesh,
And wishes, and denies,
Lest interview annul a want
That image satisfies.
Heart, We Will Forget Him
by Emily Dickinson
Heart, we will forget him,
You and I, tonight!
You must forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.
When you have done pray tell me,
Then I, my thoughts, will dim.
Haste! 'lest while you're lagging
I may remember him!
Hope is a Thing With Feathers
by Emily Dickinson
Hope is a thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings a tune without words
And never stops at all.
And sweetest, in the gale, is heard
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That keeps so many warm.
I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea
Yet, never, in extremity
It ask a crumb of me.
I Have No Life But This
by Emily Dickinson
I have no life but this,
To lead it here;
Nor any death, but lest
Dispelled from there;
Nor tie to earths to come,
Nor action new,
Except through this extent,
The Realm of You!
I Held a Jewel
by Emily Dickinson
I held a jewel in my fingers
And went to sleep
The day was warm, and winds were prosy
I said, "Twill keep"
I woke - and chide my honest fingers,
The Gem was gone
And now, an Amethyst remembrance
Is all I own
I Many Times Thought
by Emily Dickinson
I many times thought peace had come
When peace was far away,
As wrecked men deem they sight the land
When far at sea they stay.
And struggle slacker, but to prove,
As hopelessly as I,
That many the fictitious shores
Before the harbor lie.
I Should Not Dare
by Emily Dickinson
I should not dare to leave my friend,
Because if he should die
While I was gone and I -too late,
Should reach the heart that wanted me,
If I should disappoint the eyes
That hunted, hunted so, to see
And could not bear to shut until
He noticed me, -he noticed me,
If I should stab the patient faith
So sure I'd come -so sure I'd come
It listening, listening went to sleep
Reciting my tardy name.
My heart would wish it broke before
Since breaking then, since breaking then,
Is useless as next morning's sun
To erase a midnight's tear.
I Sing
by Emily Dickinson
I sing to use the waiting
My bonnet but to tie,
And close the door unto my house
No more to do have I
'Till his best step approaching,
We journey to the day,
And tell each other how we sung
To keep the Dark away.
If I May Have It
by Emily Dickinson
If I may have it when it's dead
I will contented be;
If just as soon as breath is out
It shall belong to me,
Until they lock it in the grave,
'Tis bliss I cannot weigh,
For though they lock thee in the grave,
Myself can hold the key.
Think of it, lover! I and thee
Permitted face to face to be;
After a life, a death we'll say, -
For death was that, but this is thee.
If You Were Coming In The
Fall
by Emily Dickinson
If you were coming in the fall
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year
I'd wind the months in balls
And put them into separate drawers
Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed
I'd count them on my hand
Subtracting 'till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's land
If certain when this life was out
That yours and mine should be
I'd toss life yonder like a rind
And taste eternity.
But now all ignorant of length,
Of times uncertain wing,
It goads me like the goblin bee
That will not state its sting!
It's All I Have to Bring To-day
by Emily Dickinson
It's all I have to bring to-day,
This, and my heart beside,
This, and my heart, and all the fields,
And all the meadows wide.
Be sure you count, should I forget, --
Someone the sum could tell, --
This, and my heart, and all the bees
Which in the clover dwell.
My Friend
by Emily Dickinson
My friend must be a bird
Because he flies.
Mortal, my friend must be
Because he dies!
Barbs has he, like a bee.
Ah, curious friend.
Thou puzzlest me
My River
by Emily Dickinson
My river runs to thee.
Blue sea, wilt thou welcome me?
My river awaits reply.
Oh! sea, look graciously.
I'll fetch thee brooks
from spotted nooks.
Say, sea,
Take me!
Proud of my Broken
Heart
by Emily Dickinson
Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it.
Proud of the pain, I did not feel 'till thee.
Proud of my night, since thou, with moons, dos't shake it.
Not to partake thy passion, -my humility
The Heart Asks
by Emily Dickinson
The heart asks pleasure first
And then, excuse from pain;
And then those little anodynes
That deaden suffering,
And then to go to sleep
And then, if it should be,
The will of its Inquisitor
The liberty to die!
Wild Nights
by Emily Dickinson
Wild nights. Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds
To a heart in port
Done with the compass
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden.
Ah, the sea.
Might I but moor
Tonight with thee!
You Left Me
by Emily Dickinson
You left me, sweet, two legacies, -
A legacy of love
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of;
You left me boundaries of pain
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me.
A Special World
A special world for you and me
A special bond one cannot see
It wraps us up in its cocoon
And holds us fiercely in its womb.
Its fingers spread like fine spun gold
Gently nestling us to the fold
Like silken thread it holds us fast
Bonds like this are meant to last.
And though at times a thread may break
A new one forms in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong.
- Sheelagh Lennon -
Bridal Ballad
by Edgar Allen Poe
(1809-1849)
And the wreath is on my brow;
Satins and jewels grand
Are all at my command,
And I am happy now.
And my lord he loves me well;
But when first he breathed his vow
I felt my bosom swell--
For the words rang as a knell,
And the voice seemed his who fell
In the battle down the dell,
And who is happy now.
But he spoke to reassure me,
And he kissed my pallid brow,
While a revery came o'er me,
And to the church-yard bore me,
And I sighed to him before me,
Thinking him dead D'Elormie,
"Oh, I am happy now!"
And thus the words are spoken,
And this the plighted vow,
And though my faith be broken,
And though my heart be broken,
Behold the golden token
That proves me happy now!
Would God I could awaken!
For I dream I know not how,
And my soul is sorely shaken
Lest an evil step be taken,--
Lest the dead who is forsaken
May not be happy now.
The Definition Of Love
by Andrew Marvell
(1621-1678)
As 'tis for object strange and high;
It was begotten by Despair
Upon Impossibility.
Magnanimous Despair alone
Could show me so divine a thing
Where feeble Hope could ne'er have flown,
But vainly flapp'd its tinsel wing.
And yet I quickly might arrive
Where my extended soul is fixt,
But Fate does iron wedges drive,
And always crowds itself betwixt.
For Fate with jealous eye does see
Two perfect loves, nor lets them close;
Their union would her ruin be,
And her tyrannic pow'r depose.
And therefore her decrees of steel
Us as the distant poles have plac'd,
(Though love's whole world on us doth wheel)
Not by themselves to be embrac'd;
Unless the giddy heaven fall,
And earth some new convulsion tear;
And, us to join, the world should all
Be cramp'd into a planisphere.
As lines, so loves oblique may well
Themselves in every angle greet;
But ours so truly parallel,
Though infinite, can never meet.
Therefore the love which us doth bind,
But Fate so enviously debars,
Is the conjunction of the mind,
And opposition of the stars.
Emily Dickinson
William Shakespeare
Sonnets from the Portuguese,
XIII
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
The love I bear thee, finding words enough,
And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough,
Between our faces, to cast light upon each?
I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teach
My hand to hold my spirit so far off
From myself.. me.. that I should bring thee proof,
In words of love hid in me... out of reach.
Nay, let the silence of my womanhood
Commend my woman-love to thy belief,
Seeing that I stand unwon (however wooed)
And rend the garment of my life in brief
By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,
Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.
Sonnets from the Portuguese,
XIV
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
'I love her for her smile--her look--her way
Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry,
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love, thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.
Sonnets from the Portuguese, XXXVIII
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white.
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its "O, list,"
When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst
I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,
Than that first kiss. The second passed in height
The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,
Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!
That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown,
With sanctifying sweetness, did precede
The third upon my lips was folded down
In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,
I have been proud and said, "My love, my own."
How Do I Love Thee?
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Sonnet CXVI
Let me not to the marriage
of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love,
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
Oh, no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests.. and is never shaken.
It is the star to every wandering bark
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love is not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come.
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out.. even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Sonnet
LXXIII by William Shakespeare
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Shall I Compare Thee, (Sonnet XVIII)
Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?
Thou are more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And Summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
But thy eternal Summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
O Mistress Mine by William Shakespeare
O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies not plenty;
Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
Wind
and Window Flower by Robert Frost
Lovers, forget your love,
And list to the love of these,
She a window flower,
And he a winter breeze.
When the frosty window veil
Was melted down at noon,
And the caged yellow bird
Hung over her in tune,
He marked her through the pane,
He could not help but mark,
And only passed her by
To come again at dark.
He was a winter wind,
Concerned with ice and snow,
Dead weeds and unmated birds,
And little of love could know.
But he sighed upon the sill,
He gave the sash a shake,
As witness all within
Who lay that night awake.
Perchance he half prevailed
To win her for the flight
From the firelit looking-glass
And warm stove-window light.
But the flower leaned aside
And thought of naught to say,
And morning found the breeze
A hundred miles away.
To Earthward by
Robert Frost
Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air
That crossed me from sweet things,
The flow of - was it musk
From hidden grapevine springs
Down hill at dusk?
I had the swirl and ache
From sprays of honeysuckle
That when they're gathered shake
Dew on the knuckle.
I craved strong sweets, but those
Seemed strong when I was young;
The petal of the rose
It was that stung.
Now no joy but lacks salt
That is not dashed with pain
And weariness and fault;
I crave the stain
Of tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love,
The sweet of bitter bark
And burning clove.
When stiff and sore and scarred
I take away my hand
From leaning on it hard
In grass and sand,
I long for weight and strength
To feel the earth as rough
To all my length.