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~ We are the music-makers and we are the dreamers of dreams. Wandering by lone sea-breakers, and sitting by desolate streams World-losers and world-forsakers, on whom the pale mone gleams. Yet we are the movers and shakers, of the world forever it seems. Arthur O'Shaughnessy, † 1881  © Maritha |
 ~CATS sleep anywhere any table, any chair top of piano, window-ledge, in the middle, on the edge Open drawer, empty shoe anybody's lap will do Fitted in a cardboardbox in the cupboeard with your frocks - anywhere, they don't care. Cats sleep anywhere... Eleanor Farjeon *1881 †1965 |
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~ When I am dead my dearest, sing no sad songs for me plant thou no roses at my head nor shady cypress tree; Be the green grass above me with showers and dewdrops wet and if thou wilt remember and if thou wilt forget. I shall not see the shadows I shall not feel the rain I shall not hear the nightingale sing on as if in pain And dreaming through the twilight that does not rise nor set, haply I may remember and haply may forget Christina Georgina Rosetti †1894  |
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~When somebody dies, a cloud turns into an angel, and flies up to tell God, to put another flower on a pillow. A bird gives the message back to the world, and sings a silent prayer that makes the rain cry. People disappear, but they never really go away. The spirits up there put the sun to bed, wake up grass, and spin the earth in dizzy circles. Sometimes you can see them dancing in a cloud during the day-time, when they're supposed to be sleeping. They paint the rainbows and also the sunsets and makewaves splash and tug at the tide. They toss shooting stars and listen to wishes. And when they sing windsongs, they whisper to us: "Don't miss me too much. The view is nice and I'm doing just fine." ~Unknown~ |
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