Public Posts Seattle, WA Seattle, WA

I haven't written,
for you in a while.
When I do write,
I hope you will smile.

Just a little smile,
when my words say.
In the meantime,
please have a great day.

Throughout the day,
into the night,
we risk our lives,
without a fight.

A dry day, outside
a dry day in my mind.
Good to see the sunshine,
helping me to unwind.

When night is gone,
when dawn is near,
I'll wait for you,
please reappear.

Friendship gains
throughout the year,
my love for you,
won't disappear.

Dawn breaks,
like shattered glass,
light and shadows,
spark the sky,
as I look
for you,
knowing not, why.

Be Independent - Do not be dependent on others . 

The first known use was in the 1844 book  " The Settlers of Canada by Frederick Marryat. There is also an 1850 poem by Sarah T. Bolton titled "Paddle Your Own Canoe",

I knew you when,
before we met.
I'll know you again,
at the final sunset.

On a soaked fence-post a little blue-backed bird,
Opening her sweet throat, has stirred
A million music-ripples in the air
That curl and circle everywhere.
They break not shallow at my ear,
But quiver far within. Warm days are near!

Max Forrester Eastman (1883 – 1969) was an American writer on literature, philosophy and society, a poet and a prominent political activist. Moving to New York City for graduate school, Eastman became involved with radical circles in Greenwich Village. He initially supported socialism but became highly critical first of Stalinism and then of communism and socialism in general, becoming an advocate of free market economics. He was also a leading patron of the Harlem Renaissance and an activist for a number of liberal and radical causes. In later life, he published more frequently in National Review and other conservative journals, but he always remained independent in his thinking. For instance, he publicly opposed United States involvement in the Vietnam War in the 1960s, earlier than most. Wikipedia

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

This poem is in the public domain

Robert Lee Frost (1874 – 1963) American poet. His work was initially published in England before it was published in the United States. Known for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech, Frost frequently wrote about settings from rural life in New England in the early 20th century, using them to examine complex social and philosophical themes.
Frequently honored during his lifetime, Frost is the only poet to receive four Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry. He became one of America's rare "public literary figures, almost an artistic institution". He was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal in 1960 for his poetic works. On July 22, 1961, Frost was named poet laureate of Vermont. Wikipedia

a broken branch
covered in clay
in pieces.

This life I've led,
full of daydreams
and half-truths,
has passed by.

Blue eyes or Hazel,
it remains to be seen,
if it is ok to be happy,
if they aren't green?