The Heilan’ CooI'm a hair-dishevelled heilan' coo, Hamish McKay be ma name; Welcome tae this dreichet glen I'm cursed tae ca' ma hame. Depending on the mood I'm in I'll raise ma horns on high, An' if I like the look o' ye I'll likely let ye by. But should I dinnae like the look O' ye, then tak great care, I'll raise ma horns on high again, Go on, get oot o'there! So whether welcome yae or nae, I'll raise these horns sae mean, Then ye shall ken ma meaning By the twinkle o' ma een. Courtesy of MARION GRAY Wollaton Road Wollaton Park Nottingham
'Anni, amori e bicchieri di vino, nun se contano mai.”' '“Years, lovers and glasses of wine; these things must not be counted.' Anthony Capella
"1933: We did not think of the great open plains, the beautiful rolling hills, and winding streams with tangled growth as “wild.” Only to the white man was nature a “wilderness” and only to him was the land “infested” with “wild” animals and “savage” people. To us it was tame. Earth was bountiful, and we were surrounded with the blessings of the Great Mystery. Not until the hairy man from the East came—and with brutal frenzy heaped injustices upon us and the families we loved—was it “wild” for us. When the very animals of the forest began fleeing from his approach, then it was for us that the “Wild West” began." - Luther Standing Bear
"I do NOT believe we are all born equal. Created equal in the eyes of God, yes, but physical and emotional differences, parental guidelines, varying environments, being in the right place at the right time, all play a role in enhancing or limiting an individual's development. But I DO believe every man and woman, if given the opportunity and encouragement to recognize their potential, regardless of background, has the freedom to choose in our world. Will an individual be a taker or a giver in life? Will that person be satisfied merely to exist or seek a meaningful purpose? Will he or she dare to dream the impossible dream? I believe every person is created as the steward of his or her own destiny with great power for a specific purpose, to share with others, through service, a reverence for life in a spirit of love."
— Hugh O'Brian, "The Freedom to Choose"
Category Archives: Poetry
Fall, even the name says down Crushed into the earth. The leaves of autumn become No more than mulch, sacrificing what has been To a future spring. Foot falls, damp, the lamps of Twilight wash sidewalks Already wet with fog … Continue reading
Storm Racked How should I sing when buffeting salt waves And stung with bitter surges, in whose might I toss, a cockleshell? The dreadful night Marshals its undefeated dark and raves In brutal madness, reeling over graves Of vanquished men, … Continue reading
AND THEN I WROTE I wrote a line under the influence of wine about what was then and when I felt more myself than now. How love is lost to be recaptured when boy meets girl in a whirl … Continue reading
The Lake Isle of Innisfree W. B. Yeats, 1865 – 1939 I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made: Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee; … Continue reading