The Sun in Poetry
The Peddler of Flowers I came from the country With flowers, Larkspur and roses, Fretted lilies In their leaves, And long, cool lavender. I carried them From house to house, […]
Poetry
The Sun in Poetry
Park Going to Sleep The shadows under the trees And in the vines by the boat-house Grow dark, And the lamps gleam softly. On the street, far off, The sound
The Sun in Poetry
Note: This was one of my all-time favorite poems in high school. I found it in our 11th Grade English textbook and, awe-struck, showed it to my teacher, Mrs. Monod.
The Sun in Poetry
Miracles Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over
The Taxman Cometh
Annual Appointment with My Accountant Another night, another year. At dawn The clock exploded in my ear. I woke And staggered to the train. The mist stretched on The Hudson like
The Sun in Poetry
Vernal Equinox The scent of hyacinths, like a pale mist, lies between me and my book; And the South Wind, washing through the room, Makes the candles quiver. My nerves
The Parkinson’s Pressures
Isn’t it stressful having Parkinson’s disease? It’s practically a 24/7, can’t-escape-it career. With homework. You have to exercise almost daily; take longs walks in nature; get plenty of sleep; do creative
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Double Dip
Here’s a two-for-one: 1. The Huffington Post just published an article titled “Why I Refuse to Give In to Parkinson’s Disease,” written by a fellow Parkie named Steve Alten. In the
The Sun in Poetry
The River And I behold once more My old familiar haunts; here the blue river, The same blue wonder that my infant eye Admired, sage doubting whence the traveller came,—
The Sun in Poetry
The Awakening I dreamed that I was a rose That grew beside a lonely way, Close by a path none ever chose, And there I lingered day by day. Beneath