Leisure

William Henry Davies

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

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,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

You are far away from me

Uma S

You are as far away from me as a billowing seed in the wind
I have let go and you have floated into the world

I used to leave heart shapes in the sand
So that if your spirit would walk by
It would see that I loved you
My messages spanned the world
But even the world was not enough to access your heart

I can see the roads you are walking
You show them to me in glimpses
Dusty roads, and uninhabited terrain
Tell me, is your heart as empty?

How could the flood of my feelings not cultivate any shoots in you
How could you be so simple, so untouched after the storm of my love

Maybe you are the beautiful seed that never hatched
Beautiful to feel, to remember, to treasure
But you never bloomed and greeted them
After a while, you know, a coarse seed can damage one

I have been carrying you all this while inside
Until I let you go, I could never heal

Yes, we are making different lives now
You are walking on, rolling on
And I am standing here watching you, recovering

I do not wish to call you back
The holes in my body cannot contain you any longer
And you were meant to bloom in a different field

Phenomenal Woman

Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.