Don't Go Sister, C.L. Dean - Poetry Collection

Don't Go
Sister Dear,
Or else I'll shed
too many tears.

Don't Leave.
I'm not Grown.
I need you now,
To help gather what I've
sown.

Don't leave
Sister Sweet,
If you go,
Who will always help me to
my feet?

Who will call me vain?
Who will talk to me,
Always, in Complete
Honesty?

Don't go
Sister Please.
Or the tears will
forever run through my eye's
crease.

Don't leave, not yet,
I'm still lame,
You're my crutch.

Don't leave
Sister Dear,
If you leave,
I'll shed too many tears.

You are Beautiful Inside, Image

Ginko Leaves & Memories, S.M. Dean Short

I walk through the leaves. The colors splash the cement like pastels on a canvas, oranges here, browns there, the deepest reds you've ever seen. Kentucky has a magical way of spending fall on her occupiers, lavishing her trinkets, her gifts, like miracles after such a green summer, as if by showing her naughty side before she goes dormant for winter, she's making it up to us.

Maybe she is...you can't really tell when you're in the middle of things, looking up through the slowly stripping trees. You can only tell when fall is leaving, or winter is arriving, when it has already started or when it is ending. Can you tell where a beginning begins? Or where the end of the chapter is until you're there? I'm walking, not quite sure in what direction, and for once in my life...the steps are more important than the outcome.

There could be pain, there could be joy...in the end it doesn't even matter.

The ride is more important

I Corinthians, chapter 13 - Quote - Love

And now I will show you the most excellent way:
If I speak in tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give up all I possess and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient; love is kind; it does not envy; it does not boast; it is not proud. It is not rude; it is not self-seeking; it is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will pass away; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.
When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection, then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love, but the greatest of these is love.

Solitude, Ella Wheeler Wilcox - Poetry Collection

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,—
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.