“Nymph, I wonder where you are going
Your hair
In the midnight air
Blowing.
Your face is a mask
Dare I ask
What be your task?

The gate’s hinges squeak
And the owl speaks,
“She may do as she will
For good or ill.
The light is on in yonder place.
Oh her face
Such passing grace”.

—

“Man why so pale of face?
Why pace
You so
To and fro?
Your eyes fixed on the clock
Straining to hear the gentle knock.
Your sweat
Carries the scent of regret.

The owl winks,
“Methinks
Some things are better left unsaid
As mere conjectures in the head.
Do they ill or well.
Be it heaven or hell
I will not tell”.

Hi, everyone.  Today is World Book and Copyright Day, as designated by UNESCO.  The date is symbolic:  Shakespeare, Cervantes, and Inca Garcilaso de la Vega all died on April 23.  The stated purpose of the event is to pay world-wide tribute to books and authors, and to encourage everyone to discover the joys of reading.  The event was begun in 1995, as a way to pay respect to the “irreplaceable contributions of those, who have furthered the social and cultural progress of humanity.”

In honor of the event, I am offering a 24-hour coupon to my readers.  Click on the link to get a free copy of His Beloved Infidel by using coupon code RG38E at check-out.  The link will expire on April 24, 2017.

Book blurb: Farukh and Catherine are colleagues at Paris’ World Language Institute. He is Persian; she is American. Can their newly-discovered love survive the…

Walking through these fallen leaves, I think of Ozymandias.
All things pass.
The rotten
Is soon forgotten
And all
Idols fall.

This is something I’ve always wondered about.   I see so many bloggers take down their blogs when they lose interest or they feel like their blog has fulfilled its purpose.    I can’t tell you how many times I’ve visited a blog I like and seen a message saying the blog has been removed.

I don’t get it.  Even if I were to lose interest in blogging and stop writing posts, I would still leave my blog(s) up.    One, it costs nothing on WordPress.  Two, people will continue to stumble on my blog and may be helped, entertained, or inspired by something I wrote.  Three, people who already know about my blog want to go back and reread something they already read.

It’s always so disappointing to see that a blog I’ve grown attached to no longer exists.   If I haven’t kept in touch with the blog’s…

Sinking into bliss.
A kiss.
A silver penny
So many
Shine
On women and wine.
As Dowson searches, for love divine.

Pale lost lilies.
Sillies
Weak
No words they speak
Will make him cease
In his search for peace.

Dowson died young.
No joy his lovings brung.
The same old song sung
Once more.
The hoare
Frost froze the poet, to the core.

—

Ernest Christopher Dowson was one of the Decadent or Catholic poets. Born in 1867 and dying in 1900 the poet spent a life full of wine, women and song, often seeking solace in the arms of the world’s oldest profession.
The reference to “Lilies” refers to Dowson’s fine poem, “Cynara” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernest_Dowson).

The dress she bought
Was cheap and short.
The bus she caught.
The vehicle’s slow pace
Her burning face.
Barely coping.
For salvation hoping.
Groping
For a way out.
Inwardly she shouts.
People are about
Staring
She is almost beyond caring.
A suburban place
His flushed face.
A girl’s disgrace.
How very common place.

Sometimes the air is so pure
And beauty’s store
Becomes too much.
At such
Moments the heart is full
And a dull
Ache
Will not me forsake.

Tears fall on the tranquil lake.
The sun awakes.
I will go
And see the rainbow
Shine
And ponder on what some call nature
And others the divine.