The Oak
Live thy Life,
Young and old,Like yon oak,
Bright in spring,
Living gold;
Summer-rich
Then; and then
Autumn-changed
Soberer-hued
Gold again.
Then; and then
Autumn-changed
Soberer-hued
Gold again.
All his leaves
Fall'n at length,
Look, he stands,
Trunk and bough
Naked strength.
Fall'n at length,
Look, he stands,
Trunk and bough
Naked strength.
by Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson
Poetry of the Day Review:
simple enough, life compared to the life of an oak tree. i bet its pretty boring to be an oak tree though. :/ unless the tree has a consciousness. and all day we see a tree, on this level of existence, but the to the tree, its god of its own universe, its sitting at a bar somewhere interacting with dream characters.
oh btw word of the day for your comment challenge is......
paphian: of or pertaining to love, esp. illicit physical love.
comment of the day
Thy honey-tongued whispers
set me straining for the heavens,
Like a blasphemous finger
pointing accusingly at Mount Olympus.
