As if The Sea Should Part

As if the Sea should part

And sow a further Sea--

And that--a further--and the Three

but a presumption be--

Of Periods of Seas--

Unvisited of Shores--

Themselves the Vere of Seas to be--

Eternity--is Those--

By Emily Dickinson

Hope is the Thing with Feathers

 Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.

~Emily Dickinson

The Lodge at Mio

Spring Comes on the World

by Emily Dickinson

Spring comes on the World -

I sight the Aprils -

Hueless to me until thou come

As, till the Bee

Blossoms stand negative,

Toughed to Conditions

By a Hum.

Wind Through the Trees

I Saw The Wind Within Her

by Emily Dickinson

I saw the wind within her

I knew it blew for me --

But she must buy my shelter

I asked Humility

"Sometimes With the Heart"

Sometimes with the Heart
by Emily Dickinson


Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few -- love at all.

My River Runs to Thee

My River Runs to Thee

by Emily Dickinson

My River runs to thee--

Blue Seal!  Wilt welcome me?

My River wait reply--

Oh Sea--look graciously--

I'll fetch thee Brooks--

From spotted nooks--

Say--Sea--Take Me!

"There Is Another Sky"

There is another Sky

by Emily Dickinson

There is another sky,

Ever serene and fair,

And there is another sunshine,

Though it be darkness there;

Never mind faded forests, Austin,

Never mind silent fields -

Here is a little forest,

Whose leaf is ever green;

Here is a brighter garden,

Where not a frost has been;

In its unfading flowers

I hear the bright bee hum:

Prithee, my brother,

Into my garden come!

"A Cloud Withdrew From the Sky"

A Cloud Withdrew from the Sky


A Cloud withdrew from the Sky
Superior Glory be
But that Cloud and its Auxiliaries
Are forever lost to me

Had I but further scanned
Had I secured the Glow
In an Hermetic Memory
It had availed me now.

Never to pass the Angel
With a glance and a Bow
Till I am firm in Heaven
Is my intention now.                         

By Emily Dickinson

"Nature is What We See"

Nature is what we see
By Emily Dickinson


"Nature" is what we see—
The Hill—the Afternoon—
Squirrel—Eclipse— the Bumble bee—
Nay—Nature is Heaven—
Nature is what we hear—
The Bobolink—the Sea—
Thunder—the Cricket—
Nay—Nature is Harmony—
Nature is what we know—
Yet have no art to say—
So impotent Our Wisdom is
To her Simplicity.                  

"Hide Myself Within My Flower"



Hide Myself Within My Flower 

Poem by Emily Dickinson

I HIDE myself within my flower,

That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too—
And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.

"Nobody Knows This Little Rose"

Nobody Knows This Little Rose
By Emily Dickinson


Nobody knows this little Rose—
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it—
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey—
On its breast to lie—
Only a Bird will wonder—
Only a Breeze will sigh—
Ah Little Rose—how easy
For such as thee to die!      

My Rustic Garden

Come slowly – Eden!    

By Emily Dickinson          

 

Come slowly – Eden!

Lips unused to Thee –

Bashful – sip thy Jessamines –

As the fainting Bee –

Reaching late his flower,

Round her chamber hums –

Counts his nectars –

Enters – and is lost in Balms.

"A Light Exist In Spring"

A Light Exists In Spring

By Emily Dickinson

A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When March is scarcely here

A color stands abroad
On solitary hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human naturefeels.

It waits upon the lawn;
It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope we know;
It almost speaks to me.

Then, as horizons step,
Or noons report away,
Without the formula of sound,
It passes, and we stay:

A quality of loss
Affecting our content,
As trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a sacrament.                         

"Duties of the Wind Are Few"

The Duties of the Wind are Few


The duties of the Wind are few,
To cast the ships, at Sea,
Establish March, the Floods escort,
And usher Liberty.

The pleasures of the Wind are broad,
To dwell Extent among,
Remain, or wander,
Speculate, or Forests entertain.

The kinsmen of the Wind are Peaks
Azof - the Equinox,
Also with Bird and Asteroid
A bowing intercourse.

The limitations of the Wind
Do he exist, or die,
Too wise he seems for Wakelessness,
However, know not I.                      
                                               

Emily Dickinson

"The Wind Does Not Require the Grass"

"Why Do I Love" You Sir?

"Why do I love" You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.

Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—

The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—

The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He's Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—

Emily Dickinson

Nature is What We See

The Azaleas live from year to year with only mother nature to nurture and care for them and they continue to thrive.  The one word to describe how I feel when my yard is full of blooms is "happy."

Nature is What We See
by Emily Dickinson

"Nature" is what we see--
The Hill--the Afternoon--
Squirrel--Eclipse--the Bumble bee--
Nay--Nature is Heaven--
Nature is what we hear--
The Bobolink--the Sea--
Thunder--the Cricket--
Nay--Nature is Harmony--
Nature is what we know--
Yet have no art to say--
So important Our Wisdom is
To her Simplicity.

"Hope Is the Thing With Flower Petals"

I wanted to start off 2015 with my beautiful Hibiscus flowers that grew in my container garden last fall.  I hope to see a rebirth this spring. I don't have a green thumb so they have to survive the crazy Florida weather from hot to cold and from thunderstorms to droughts.  I enjoy these flowers in the mornings when they opened their blooms and at night when they went to sleep.  They give me hope of a new day, a new beginning and peace in the evenings.  Emily Dickinson says "Hope Is The Thing With Feathers."  I say "Hope Is The Thing With Flower Petals."

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers
By Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)

"Hope" is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the 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 kept so any warm

I've heart it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest Sea
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb  - of me.

"The Mountain Stood in Haze"

 

The Mountain Stood in Haze

The Mountains stood in Haze—
The Valleys stopped below
And went or waited as they liked
The River and the Sky.

At leisure was the Sun—
His interests of Fire
A little from remark withdrawn—
The Twilight spoke the Spire,

So soft upon the Scene
The Act of evening fell
We felt how neighborly a Thing
Was the Invisible.

 

By Emily Dickinson

'Because I could not stop for Death' by Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death

Because I could not stop for Death--
He kindly stopped for me--
The Carriage held but just Ourselves--
And Immortality.

We slowly drove--He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility--

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess--in the Ring--
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain--
We passed the Setting Sun--

Or rather--He passed us--
The Dews drew quivering and chill--
For only Gossamer, my Gown--
My Tippet--only Tulle--

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground--
The Roof was scarcely visible--
The Cornice--in the Ground--

Since then--'tis Centuries--and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity--

Emily Dickinson

 The Red Buggy:
 The picture of the red buggy was taken outside of Wellsville, PA.  Wellsville has changed very little visually during the twentieth century; the borough's appearance has remained that of a nineteenth-century community, complete with brick sidewalks and Gothic Revival and Greek Revival houses. Because of its unusually high quality of preservation, nearly all of the community was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1977 as the "Wellsville Historic District".