Nothing Gold Can Stay

 

 photo: reubenvision

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold,
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

by: Robert Frost

ART OF WATER

source: http://thefashionisto.com/

whether lot, whether little

whether cold, whether hot

whether thirst, whether not

water is always needed

whether clean, whether dirty

in the land, in the ocean

whether flood, whether dry

water is always problem

rain river, static puddle

hidden in the desert, moist in the forest

frost on mountain, vapor to clouds

water is everywhere

playable, making war

doesn't have taste, doesn't have color

you can live or you can die

water is sign of life

the element, the anomaly

build energy, fill the body

the circle, the reflection

water is word of power 

maria sudibyo

Lets go sailing

 http://www.kissthegroom.com/

http://www.kissthegroom.com/

TO sea, to sea! The calm is o'er;

The wanton water leaps in sport,

And rattles down the pebbly shore;

The dolphin wheels, the sea-cow snorts,

And unseen mermaids' pearly song

Comes bubbling up, the weeds among.

Fling broad the sail, dip deep the oar:

To sea, to sea! The calm is o'er.

To sea, to sea! our wide-winged bark

Shall billowy cleave its sunny way,

And with its shadow, fleet and dark,

Break the caved Tritons' azure day,

Like mighty eagle soaring light

O'er antelopes on Alpine height.

The anchor heaves, the ship swings free,

The sails swell full. To sea, to sea!

Thomas Lovell Beddoes

not much for blue

or so I thought ...

but it seems I have been seeing things of a different lot

[link]

Bernadette Pascua

for now I quite do,

that is like blue

brrrr

My cheeks are flush,

my toes are cold

I see the ice,

It shines like gold

Lest We Forget

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.

- John McCrae