O rose, who dares to name thee?No longer roseate now, nor soft

O rose, who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet,
But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat,–
Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee. – Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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Remembrance
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Ah tell me not that memory sheds gladness over the past; what is recalled by faded flowers save that they did not last? – Letitia Elizabeth Landon

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Time has lost all meaning in that nightmare alley of the Western world known as the American mind. We wallow in nostalgia but manage to get it all wrong. True nostalgia is an ephemeral composition of disjointed memories… but American-style nostalgia is about as ephemeral as copyrighted d?j? vu. – Florence King

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may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it – e. e. (Edward Estlin) cummings

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