Poetry – At Sunnyside – Where Truth and Beauty Meet

Thanksgiving Prayer, by Sister Renee

Read Full Post: Lavish Mercy Thanks for Visiting 🙂 ~Sunnyside

Denise Levertov: In Whom We Live and Move and Have Our Being

“In Whom We Live and Move and Have Our Being” Birds afloat in air’s current, sacred breath? No, not breath of God, it seems, but God the air enveloping the whole globe of being. It’s we who breathe, in, out, in, the sacred, leaves astir, our wings rising, ruffled—but only saints take flight. We cower…

Autumn: Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Leo Putz

Autumn Song By Dante Gabriel Rossetti Know’st thou not at the fall of the leaf How the heart feels a languid grief Laid on it for a covering, And how sleep seems a goodly thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf? And how the swift beat of the brain Falters because it is…

Josiah Gilbert Holland: “God Give Us Men”

Wanted by Josiah Gilbert Holland God, give us men! A time like this demands Strong minds, great hearts, true faith and ready hands; Men whom the lust of office does not kill; Men whom the spoils of office cannot buy; Men who possess opinions and a will; Men who have honor; men who will not…

A.E. Houseman: How Clear, How Lovely Bright

How Clear, How Lovely Bright – A.E. Houseman How clear, how lovely bright, How beautiful to sight Those beams of morning play; How heaven laughs out with glee Where, like a bird set free, Up from the eastern sea Soars the delightful day. To-day I shall be strong, No more shall yield to wrong, Shall…

Thomas Hardy: The Darkling Thrush

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…

Christina Rossetti: Holy Innocents

Holy Innocents by Christina Rossetti Sleep, little Baby, sleep; The holy Angels love thee, And guard thy bed, and keep A blessed watch above thee. No spirit can come near Nor evil beast to harm thee: Sleep, Sweet, devoid of fear Where nothing need alarm thee. The Love which doth not sleep, The eternal Arms…

Art and Theology: “At Christmas” by Frank O’Malley

Let the Christbrand burst!Let the Christbrand blazon!Dartle whitely under the hearth-fire,Unwind the wind, turn the thunderer,And never, never thinning,Forfend fear.Flare up smartly, fix, flex, bless, inspire,Instar the time, sear the sorcerer,And never, never sparing,Save all year.Let the Christbrand burst!Let the Christbrand blazon! This poem appears in Scholastic 115, no. 10 (March 1, 1974), a publication…

Jan Toorop: O Grave, Where Is Thy Victory? (1892)

Many thanks to Roos Zwart LandArtist for pointing me to this artwork. 🙂 Who Is Jan Toorop? Johannes Theodorus ‘Jan’ Toorop was a Dutch-Indonesian painter, who worked in various styles, including Symbolism, Art Nouveau, and Pointillism. His early work was influenced by the Amsterdam Impressionism movement. Wikipedia A Poem: Forgiveness My heart was heavy, for…

Why Bind the Days? A Poem by Jonathan Humble

If I were a poet, I would want to write like this. ~Sunnyside Why Bind The Days? Mar 10, 2021 Why bind the days inside that self-embrace? Alight, a life should shame the brightest star; refuse the mask that hides a truthful face. Imperfect lines in faith do not disgrace when claimed as fact and…

Vista or Voyage?

Vista or Voyage? Do I exist Among this mist of Seen and unseen, Known and unknown, Action and reaction, Ever captive, Yet courageous In this chasm Where I search but don’t surrender? by Sunnyside Lol…this is my 29 word response to: Challenge: Weekend Writing Prompt #200 – Vista Challenge found via Christine Goodnough’s Catching the View…

Mary Chapin Carpenter: Between Here And Gone

Lyrics Tonight, the moon came out, it was nearly full.Way down here on earth, I could feel it’s pull.The weight of gravity or just the lure of life,Made me want to leave my only home tonight. Now I’m just wonderin’ how we know where we belong.Is it in a photograph, or a dashboard poet’s song?Will…

Erased – a poem

At last, I see Your Truth – That “Secret Heart” You blame. Is it Adultery – Predator or Prey? Bathed in shame, I choke back tears – Does “ballerina” Have a name? At last, I see That marriage is Another promise Twisted. Each day For me another Tortured trial: Beliefs (I thought) We shared, once…

Folk Songs: ‘When You and I Were Young, Maggie’

Best viewed At Sunnyside I first saw a recording by the group Mignarda (http://www.Mignarda.com) at Cap’s Blog in his post Se sei con me. By their own words, “As Mignarda (http://www.Mignarda.com), we typically perform music from the 16th century, but while taking a break from recording the music of John Dowland, we did an impromptu rendition…

The Breath of the Forest

Ancient Skies I sometimes forget to walk within my healing, boundaries not withstanding often preferring the purity of winter, the breath of the forest, and hawk wings balancing on my shoulders. Scars? What scars? Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies View original post

Sister From The Order Of The Pre-Raphaelites

Lately, I have been delving into the lives of some of the talented women surrounding the Pre-Raphaelite movement, both artists and models, so I am delighted to re-blog this poem by Gwendrina. Published at The Peaceful Pub, “Sister From The Order Of The Pre-Raphaelites” is a poem about “a fictitious member of the group based…

Kyoto Botanical Garden — rlmcdermott

What kind of trees were they that broke the color– all tall and green and dancing in the slow sunlight of an April afternoon? Women in blue kimonos stood beneath the delicate branches snapping pictures digital and bright. Children played, young mother’s strolled, stooped old men finished with their lives sat on stone benches. An…

Lessons from Nature with Wassily, William, and Luda

William Wordsworth’s poem, The Tables Turned, Wassily Kandinsky’s painting Park von St. Cloud -Herbst, and a lovely post by Luda at Plants and Beyond remind us why we need to unplug, venture out, and notice the gifts of nature. The Tables Turned by William Wordsworth Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books; Or surely…

Pools – A Poem by Joe Barca — Vita Brevis

Pools Submitted by Joe Barca I am but water. The puddle of last night’s shower. I live for an hour or two. Until the sunshine absorbs me. I am the ocean for children in Wellington boots. For earthworms. And for the descent of errant swallows. I am pavement’s liquid memory. I……… Continue via Pools…

Life is real! Life is earnest! – dual personalities

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul….

The Gypsy Roan – The Peaceful Pub

There is a storm gale in her eyes and the stillness of her mane waiting to gust the field in leaf-red motion. Her back carries the weight of my mind — seated light, set to inhale the morning chase. She seeks that strain of abandon I love — a brisk wind enflamed by trees, stories […]…

Strut – Haiku out of Africa by Lize Bard

brace against the storms ~ against oceans and the wind ~ find the calm within — © Lize Bard @ Haiku out of Africa via Strut — Haiku out of Africa

Smoke and Mirrors – Existential Poetry

Smoke and Mirrors And you, with all your glorious flowering self-deception – your words are glowing embers and your tongue stokes the fire that engulfs me like paper but I think it fills the void inside of you. How does it feel to sleep with the lies you’ve fashioned from the flames? Some may wonder…

John Everett Millais: ‘Mariana’ (1851)

Who is John Everett Millais? John Millais (1829–1896) was a founding member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, a group of English artists who united in 1848 hoping to renew British painting. They idealized the sincerity of purpose and clarity of form of the early Italian Renaissance artists—before Raphael—finding art that they sought to emulate. The Pre-Raphaelite…

‘Unburdened’ – Brandewijn Words – MORALITY PARK

In silent veracity the falseness Comes alive and steals the night. Dwelling in temerity it ticks and tocks, Takes time from me in gasping gulps of air. The trigger of one’s validation Slowly breeds anticipation that Builds and builds until it falls Like castles small and made of sand. The raging winds that push…