Monday, March 30, 2015

Here Lie the Dead

Lately I've been thinking a lot about W.W.I.I. The horrors, the deception and the waste of human life. Several books I've been reading are 'Hannah's Suitcase', 'The Diary of Anne Frank', and 'The Hiding Place,' by Corry Ten Boom.

It does make one feel sad. To think of the suffering of good people at the hands of people that blindly follow an evil ideology.

Of course I'm grateful there are people that are willing to defend their country and help people whose lives are in jeopardy.

Still, it's hard to understand why people are so willing to inflict pain on others. Isn't life meant to be enjoyed? Are we not given life from a loving God so that we can love, help and encourage each other? 

War. What is it good for?

Here Dead Lie We

by A.E. Housman.

Here dead lie we
Because we did not choose
To live and shame the land
From which we sprung.

Life, to be sure,
Is nothing much to lose,
But young men think it is,
And we were young.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Memories of Love

Spring is in the air and with it comes romance and fresh beginnings. It's a good time to make new plans and to reflect on how, or what changes we will make in our life. Take care though, some memories are just meant to be savoured.

The First Day

by Christina Georgina Rossetti

I wish I could remember the first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season it might be
Summer or winter for aught I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom, yet, or many a May.
If only I could recollect it. such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;
It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand - Did one, but know!

False Though She Be

by William Congreve

False though she be to me and love,
I'll ne'er pursue revenge;
For still the charmer I approve,
Though I deplore her change.

In hours of bliss we oft have met:
They could not always last;
And though the present I regret,
I'm grateful for the past.