“Oh I, I believe in magic and I believe in dreams” – Grace Slick, Dreams
Music
When Great Trees Fall
Maya Angelou
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.”
And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Video edited by Andreea Petcu
St. Patrick’s Day is an enchanted time – a day to begin transforming winter’s dreams into summer’s magic. ~Adrienne Cook
Video by LadyGreyCarolyn
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Video by Ahmad Farag Elyan.
Art by Salvador Dali
Music – Pink Floyd – High Hopes (The Division Bell)
An old man in love is like a flower in winter. – Portuguese proverb
‘A Red, Red Rose’ by Robert Burns, sung by Andy M. Stewart
O my Luve’s like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve’s like the melodie That’s sweetly song in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry: Till a’ the seas gang dry, my love, And the rocks melt wi’ the sun: I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o’ life shall run. And fare thee well, my only Luve And fare thee well, a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.
Horses are angels without wings.
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I have loved flowers that fade
by Robert Bridges
I have loved flowers that fade,
Within whose magic tents
Rich hues have marriage made
With sweet unmemoried scents:
A honeymoon delight,
A joy of love at sight,
That ages in an hour
My song be like a flower!.
I have loved airs that die
Before their charm is writ
Along a liquid sky
Trembling to welcome it.
Notes, that with pulse of fire
Proclaim the spirit’s desire,
Then die, and are nowhere
My song be like an air!.
Die, song, die like a breath,
And wither as a bloom;
Fear not a flowery death,
Dread not an airy tomb!
Fly with delight, fly hence!
‘Twas thine love’s tender sense
To feast; now on thy bier
Beauty shall shed a tear.
Maverick Mist 