SNOW by Louis MacNeice

SNOW  by Louis MacNeice  The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was Spawning snow and pink roses against it Soundlessly collateral and incompatible: World is suddener than we fancy it. World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of things being various. And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes – On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one’s hands – There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.

THE DARKLING THRUSH by Thomas Hardy

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THE DARKLING THRUSH  by Thomas Hardy I leant upon a coppice gate       When Frost was spectre-grey, And Winter's dregs made desolate       The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky       Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh       Had sought their household fires. The land's sharp features seemed to be       The Century's corpse outleant, His crypt the cloudy canopy,       The wind his death-lament. The ancient pulse of germ and birth       Was shrunken hard and dry, And every spirit upon earth       Seemed fervourless as I. At once a voice arose among       The bleak twigs overhead In a full-hearted evensong       Of joy illimited; An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,       In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul       Upon the growing gloom. So little cause for carolings       Of such ecstatic sound Was written on terrestrial things       Afar or nigh around, That I could think there trembled through       His happy good-night air Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew       And I was unaware.

IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER by Christina Rossetti

IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER by Christina Rossetti In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, long ago. Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain; Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign. In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ. Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day, Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay; Enough for Him, whom angels fall before, The ox and ass and camel which adore. Angels and archangels may have gathered there, Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air; But His mother only, in her maiden bliss, Worshipped the beloved with a kiss. What can I give Him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb; If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part; Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

AN AUTUMN RAIN - SCENE - Poem by Thomas Hardy

AN AUTUMN RAIN - SCENE  Poem by Thomas Hardy There trudges one to a merry-making With sturdy swing, On whom the rain comes down. To fetch the saving medicament Is another bent, On whom the rain comes down. One slowly drives his herd to the stall Ere ill befall, On whom the rain comes down. This bears his missives of life and death With quickening breath, On whom the rain comes down. One watches for signals of wreck or war From the hill afar, On whom the rain comes down. No care if he gain a shelter or none, Unhired moves on, On whom the rain comes down. And another knows nought of its chilling fall Upon him aat all, On whom the rain comes down. October 1904

THE OCEAN - by © B Gosling

THE OCEAN  by © B Gosling The waves trickle along my toes. The soft ocean sprays across my nose. The sand was compliant under my feet, Exactly where the ocean and it decide to meet. The water rose and enveloped around my shin. The salt water numbing against the skin. A shell drifted, caught in the tide, A tiny crab adrift inside. The water drifted up to my hips, A million kisses from the ocean's lips. A gentle caress from the deep blue, Though it would've been better if it was from you... The water enveloped around my waist. A thousand tiny fingers around me laced. The horizon calls, it beckons me Out towards it, across the sea.

BEN BARNES

THE OCEAN - by © B Gosling

THE OCEAN  by © B Gosling The waves trickle along my toes. The soft ocean sprays across my nose. The sand was compliant under my feet, Exactly where the ocean and it decide to meet. The water rose and enveloped around my shin. The salt water numbing against the skin. A shell drifted, caught in the tide, A tiny crab adrift inside. The water drifted up to my hips, A million kisses from the ocean's lips. A gentle caress from the deep blue, Though it would've been better if it was from you... The water enveloped around my waist. A thousand tiny fingers around me laced. The horizon calls, it beckons me Out towards it, across the sea.

MY DEAREST LOVE - by © Sherri Brown

MY  DEAREST  LOVE  by © Sherri Brown I see you in my thoughts and dreams, When I awake, how real it seems. You aren't here to comfort me, But soon I hope you will be. No one truly knows or understands; You have my heart in your hands. My love is what you truly own. Come soon and make our house a home. Inside those walls you are doing your time, Not being here with me is your only true crime. Others in your life will come and go, But my love is true, and I'm sure you know. I may not be rich or the prettiest one, But I love you so much; you are my sun. You light up my life every time you call. When the time is up, I begin to fall. You are my stars, you are my moon, Being with you will come very soon. So when you sleep, take this to heart, No one or nothing will keep us apart.

A FABLE by Mark Twain

Once upon a time an artist who had painted a small and very beautiful picture placed it so that he could see it in the mirror. He said, “This doubles the distance and softens it, and it is twice as lovely as it was before.”

The animals out in the woods heard of this through the housecat, who was greatly admired by them because he was so learned, and so refined and civilized, and so polite and high-bred, and could tell them so much which they didn’t know before, and were not certain about afterward. They were much excited about this new piece of gossip, and they asked questions, so as to get at a full understanding of it. They asked what a picture was, and the cat explained.

“It is a flat thing,” he said; “wonderfully flat, marvelously flat, enchantingly flat and elegant. And, oh, so beautiful!”

That excited them almost to a frenzy, and they said they would give the world to see it. Then the bear asked:

“What is it that makes it so beautiful?”

“It is the looks of it,” said the cat.

This filled them with admiration and uncertainty, and they were more excited than ever. Then the cow asked:

“What is a mirror?”

“It is a hole in the wall,” said the cat. “You look in it, and there you see the picture, and it is so dainty and charming and ethereal and inspiring in its unimaginable beauty that your head turns round and round, and you almost swoon with ecstasy.”

The ass had not said anything as yet; he now began to throw doubts. He said there had never been anything as beautiful as this before, and probably wasn’t now. He said that when it took a whole basketful of sesquipedalian adjectives to whoop up a thing of beauty, it was time for suspicion.

It was easy to see that these doubts were having an effect upon the animals, so the cat went off offended. The subject was dropped for a couple of days, but in the meantime curiosity was taking a fresh start, and there was a revival of interest perceptible. Then the animals assailed the ass for spoiling what could possibly have been a pleasure to them, on a mere suspicion that the picture was not beautiful, without any evidence that such was the case. The ass was not troubled; he was calm, and said there was one way to find out who was in the right, himself or the cat: he would go and look in that hole, and come back and tell what he found there. The animals felt relieved and grateful, and asked him to go at once—which he did.

But he did not know where he ought to stand; and so, through error, he stood between the picture and the mirror. The result was that the picture had no chance, and didn’t show up. He returned home and said:

“The cat lied. There was nothing in that hole but an ass. There wasn’t a sign of a flat thing visible. It was a handsome ass, and friendly, but just an ass, and nothing more.”

The elephant asked:

“Did you see it good and clear? Were you close to it?”

“I saw it good and clear, O Hathi, King of Beasts. I was so close that I touched noses with it.”

“This is very strange,” said the elephant; “the cat was always truthful before—as far as we could make out. Let another witness try. Go, Baloo, look in the hole, and come and report.”

So the bear went. When he came back, he said:

“Both the cat and the ass have lied; there was nothing in the hole but a bear.”

Great was the surprise and puzzlement of the animals. Each was now anxious to make the test himself and get at the straight truth. The elephant sent them one at a time.

First, the cow. She found nothing in the hole but a cow.

The tiger found nothing in it but a tiger.

The lion found nothing in it but a lion.

The leopard found nothing in it but a leopard.

The camel found a camel, and nothing more.

Then Hathi was wroth, and said he would have the truth, if he had to go and fetch it himself. When he returned, he abused his whole subjectry for liars, and was in an unappeasable fury with the moral and mental blindness of the cat. He said that anybody but a near-sighted fool could see that there was nothing in the hole but an elephant.

   MORAL, BY THE CAT

You can find in a text whatever you bring, if you will stand between it and the mirror of your imagination. You may not see your ears, but they will be there.

THROUGH IT ALL - by© Destinee Snuffer

THROUGH IT ALL  by© Destinee Snuffer Friends come and go Life flies by right before your eyes. You loose ones you love Yet through it all you still love your life. People leave you to fight alone You put on a fake smile to hide all your pain Yet someone still knows your hurt. Through it all you still put on a front to satisfy those around you Thorough it all you wouldn't change a thing Through it all you wouldn't trade your life for fame. You build a wall to try to keep from getting hurt You lock up you heart and throw away the key to see who cares enough to look for the key Through it all there's not many people that got you to open up yet still you love it all. Struggles meet you in the face to watch you slip up Yet through it all you wouldn't change a thing. Through it all you wouldn't change a thing Through it all you wouldn't trade your life for fame.

Dutch artist - Jos van Cleve (1485-1540)

 

HOW IT USED TO BE - by © Melanie Edwards

HOW IT USED TO BE  © Melanie Edwards I remember how it used to be when nothing else matter but you and me music, country roads, and future dreams. I miss you, I wish you could see although you are here, I miss you and me. I remember when you said how happy I made you and you really meant it...now, it's just a phrase you say without thinking. I miss those days when you'd call just to say "hi" or "I love you"...the days it was so hard just to say good-bye for a while. I remember how wonderful it felt the first time you held me in your arms-and how after all those years you still made my heart melt. I miss the old you- and the old me The old us that could just sit and talk for hours and never run out of things to say. I remember when time simply stood still- when in each other's arms is the only place we wanted to be...forever. I miss us as I remember how it used to be... when nothing else matter but you and me.

FRANS POURBUS THE YOUNGER (1569–1622) - PAINTINGS

Isabella of France (Queen of Spain)

Portrait of Isabella Clara Eugenia

Spouse Isabella Clara Eugenia - Albrecht.

 Portrait of a Man

Portrait of the Spanish Infanta - Isabella Clara Eugenia with her dwarf

Henrietta Maria French - the youngest daughter of the French King Henry IV and Maria de 'Medici, married in 1625 for Charles I Stuart, King of England.

Portrait of Anne of Austria in mourning. 1621

Louis XIII, as a Dauphin in 10 years.

Christina Maria Bourbon is a French princess, after her marriage the Duchess of Savoy. The second daughter and the third child of King Henry IV of France and his second wife, Maria de 'Medici. 1612

Portrait of Maria Medici

Philip III - King of Spain

Gaston Jean Baptiste French, Duke of Orleans, the youngest son of King Henry IV and Maria Medici. 1611

Isabella Clara Eugenia - Spanish Infanta, ruler of the Spanish Netherlands.

Henry IV the Great is the leader of the Huguenots at the end of the Religious Wars in France, King of Navarre since 1572, King of France since 1589, the founder of the French royal dynasty of the Bourbons.

Children's portrait of the King of France Louis XIII

Maria Medici is the queen of France, the daughter of the Grand Duke Francesco I of Tuscany and Joanna of Austria. 1605 year.

Vincenzo I Gonzaga - Duke of Mantua, Duke of Monferrat since 1587. Son Guglielmo Gonzaga and Eleonora of Austria. The last great ruler of the dynasty.

Eleanor Medici is an Italian aristocrat from the Medici dynasty, in the marriage of the Duchess of Mantua and Monferrat. In 1584, Eleanor married Vincenzo I Gonzaga, who soon became ruler of Mantua and Monferrat.

A portrait of Eleanor Gonzaga, the youngest daughter of Vincenzo I Gonzaga, Duke of Mantua, and Eleonora de Medici.

Margarita Gonzaga - daughter of the Mantuan ruler Vincenzo I of the Gonzaga family, in marriage - the Duchess of Lorraine.

Portrait of Maria Medici

Guillaume du Vare, a lawyer and a writer. 1622

Portrait of Isabella Clara Eugenia 

Portrait of Maria Medici