“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats
Music
The Song of Wandering Aengus
W.B. Yeats
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
Atop the Clouds
by Aly Bambi
I’d like to sit atop the clouds
And watch the world above me
As well as the one below
I’d like to sit atop the clouds,
And gaze at the wondrous excitement
Of the shining, glowing fluff.
I can only imagine the beauty
“Young girls commonly used dandelions in the 1800s for romantic and oracular purposes. It was believed that if you blew on a dandelion and all the seeds flew away, your loved one returned the feelings; if any seeds remained, they might have reservations or no feelings at all. Children would blow on these flowers while thinking hard about the objects of their affection. Eventually this tradition spread to encompass all wishing, romantic or otherwise.” 🍀
The Native American Indian Butterfly Legend:
“If anyone desires a wish to come true they must first capture a butterfly and whisper their wish to it. Since a butterfly can make no sound, the butterfly can not reveal the wish to anyone but the Great Spirit who hears and sees all.
In gratitude for giving the beautiful butterfly its freedom, the Great Spirit always grants the wish. So, according to legend, by making a wish and giving the butterfly its freedom, the wish will be taken to the heavens and be granted.” 🦋
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
Its loveliness increases; it will never
pass into nothingness …
―John Keats
Warning
Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
“Forsythia is pure joy. There is not an ounce, not a glimmer of sadness or even
knowledge in forsythia. Pure, undiluted, untouched joy.” – Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Maverick Mist 