Well, let the repeats begin a day early. I have a request for “hope” on this most hope – filled night of the year. So, it must be dear Emily. Happy New Year’s Eve.
from “Hope” is the thing with feathers / by Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
For the upcoming week, from poetryfoundation.org.
from The New-England Boy’s Song about Thanksgiving Day / by Lydia Maria Child (1802–1880 )
Over the river, and through the wood,
With a clear blue winter sky,
The dogs do bark,
And children hark,
As we go jingling by.
For faith, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Faith / by Frances Anne Kemble
Better trust all, and be deceived,
And weep that trust, and that deceiving;
Than doubt one heart, that, if believed,
Had blessed one’s life with true believing.
For Mother’s Day eve, from poetryfoundation.org.
from To a Child / by Sophie Jewett (1861–1909)
I was a dreaming forest tree,
You were a wild, sweet bird
Who sheltered at the heart of me
Because the north wind stirred;
For Concord and self-reliance, from The Oxford Book of American Poetry, edited by David Lehman.
from A Letter / by Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)
And mark the rising of the early stars.
There will I bring my books
For “a retail dry-good shop in Chatham-street,” from The Oxford Book of American Poetry, edited by David Lehman (2006).
from Fanny / by Fitz-Greene Halleck (1790-1867)
There is an airy web of magic in it,
As in Othello’s pocket handkerchief.
Another for the children of October, from our hula dancer-poet-illustrator, Edna, from the book, An Eyeball in My Garden.
from Zombie Kid Blues / by Edna Cabcabin Moran
Though I borrowed a mitt
That perfectly fit,
It came off with my hand still inside.