Photo & Poem Gallery

O my Luve is like a red, red rose 
   That’s newly sprung in June; 
O my Luve is like the melody 
   That’s sweetly played in tune. 

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass, 
   So deep in luve am I; 
And I will luve thee still, my dear, 

No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:
Thy pyramids built up with newer might
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
They are but dressings of a former sight.
Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire
What thou dost foist upon us that is old,

We, Angels and Mortals, Believers and Non-Believers,
Look Heavenward and speak the word aloud. 
Peace, We look at our world and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves 
And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation. 

Light, my light, the world-filling light,
the eye-kissing light,
heart-sweetening light!
 
Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the center of my life;
the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love;

The river sleeps beneath the sky,
And clasps the shadows to its breast;
The crescent moon shines dim on high;
And in the lately radiant west
The gold is fading into gray.
Now stills the lark his festive lay,
And mourns with me the dying day.

A lion sleeps in the heart of every brave man. 

                                            One river gives
                                              Its journey to the next.

We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.

The Props assist the House
Until the House is built
And then the Props withdraw
And adequate, erect,
The House support itself
And cease to recollect
The Augur and the Carpenter –
Just such a retrospect
Hath the perfected Life –

Mine, says the cat, putting out his paw of darkness.
My lover, my friend, my slave, my toy, says
the cat making on your chest his gesture of drawing
milk from his mother’s forgotten breasts.

Let us walk in the woods, says the cat.

Double double toil and trouble
Fire burn and cauldron bubble