More poems that I have come to love over the years. If you find it strange that such a page should reside on a chelonian site I can only respond that man does not live by tortoises alone.
Happiness - by Carl Sandburg
Choose - by Carl Sandburg
Love in the Guise of Friendship - by Robert Burns
As I Walked Through The Meadows - by Unknown
Strawberries - by Edwin Morgan
I ASKED the professors who teach the meaning of life
to tell me what is happiness.
And I went to famous executives who boss the work
of thousands of men.
They all shook their heads and gave me a smile
as though I was trying to fool with them
And then one Sunday afternoon I wandered out along the Desplaines river
And I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with
their women and children and a keg of beer and an
THE single clenched fist lifted and ready,
Or the open asking hand held out and waiting.
For we meet by one or the other.
Talk not of love, it gives me pain,
For love has been my foe;
He bound me in an iron chain,
And plung'd me deep in woe.
But friendship's pure and lasting joys,
My heart was form'd to prove;
There, welcome win and wear the prize,
But never talk of love.
Your friendship much can make me blest,
O why that bliss destroy?
Why urge the only, one request
You know I will deny?
Your thought, if Love must harbour there,
Conceal it in that thought;
Nor cause it in that thought;
Nor cause me from my bosom tear
The very friend I sought.
Now the winter is gone and the summer is come,
And the meadows look pleasant and gay;
I met a young damsel,so sweetly sang she,
And her cheeks like the blossoms of may.
I says.'Fair maiden,how came you here,
In the meadows this morning so soon?'
The maid she replied,'For to gather some may
For the trees they are all in full bloom.'
I says,'Fair maiden,shall I go with you
To the meadows to gather some may?'
Oh the maid she replied,'Oh I must be excused
For I`m afeared you will lead me astray.'
Then I took this fair maid by her lily-white hand
On the green mossy banks we sat down
And I placed a kiss on her sweet rosey lips
And the small birds were singing all around.
When we arose from the green mossy banks
To the meadows we wondered away;
I placed my love on a primrosy bank
And I plucked her a handful of may.
There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strwberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in the air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you
let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills
let the storm wash the plates