i want to remember the way the light was filtered by the reeds that day we walked along the brick-lined streets and the warmth of a well-loved dog, her smell and her kisses and her wagging tail and the sound of the crunching leaves under my old boots and the rain that fell on our heads as we knelt to watch the vole burrow deeply under a sodden log
And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young
A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear
And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
And so happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let’s stop all the fight
A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear
a few lyrics from the song So This Is Christmas by John Lennon, 1971
she walked along the river’s edge with her two most loyal companions: her dog and her solitude
she is a black winged woman
once a virgin, then a maiden, now a crone—
large, formidable, standing in black velvet platform boots,
wind at her back—
no white horses arriving today
no promises of peaceful doves and candy rainbows,
a window to a haunted past
and a hail storm future—
she is one woman,
but she is all the women
of her midnight-caped clan—
flying, diving, surviving—
thriving
Sign, sign
Everywhere a sign
Blockin’ out the scenery
Breakin’ my mind
Do this, don’t do that
Can’t you read the sign?
from the song Sign written by Les Emmerson and performed by The Five Man Electrical Band, 1970
The ground’s a long way down but I need more
Is the nightmare really black
Or are the windows painted
Will they come again next week
Can my mind really take it
Lyrics from the song, Madman Across the Water by Elton John and Bernie Taupin from the album Madman Across the Water, 1971
there are times when we search far
and discover what we needed was in fact—
near
you have been here,
left your mark
that the rain and the wind will wash away—
but how very beautiful
it was
After a rain-threatening morning it is a beautiful Indian summer day, the most remarkable hitherto and equal to any of the kind. Yet we kept fires in the forenoon, the warmth not having got into the house. It is akin to sin to spend such a day in the house.
from The Journal 1837-1861 by Henry David Thoreau
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