Augusta Bulldogs Blockwatch

Angels Crossings: Pages of Inspiration and Poetry

My Shadow by Robert Louis Stevenson

My Shadow

I have a little shadow
that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him
is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me
from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me
when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him
is the way he likes to grow---
Not at all like proper children,
which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller
like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that
there's none of him at all.

He hasn't got a notion
of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me
in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me,
he's a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie
as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early,
before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew
on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow,
like an arrant sleepyhead,
Had stayed at home behind me
and was fast asleep in bed.

---Robert Louis Stevenson

All I Need to Know About Life I Learned from Trees

It's important to have roots.

In today's complex world, it pays to branch out.

Don't pine away over old flames.

If you really believe in something,
don't be afraid to go out on a limb.

Be flexible so you don't break when a harsh wind blows.

Sometimes you have to shed your old bark in order to grow.

If you want to maintain accurate records, keep a log.

To be politically correct, don't wear firs.

Grow where you're planted.

It's perfectly okay to be a late bloomer.

Avoid people who would like to cut you down.

Get all spruced up when you have a hot date.

If the party gets boring, just leaf.

You can't hide your true colors as you approach
the autumn of your life.

And lastly...It's more important to be honest than poplar.

~~Author Unknown~~


Photo Credit: Snow Covered Street, Vermont, USA by Jim Eaton

The Vessel by B.V. Cornwall

The Master was searching for a vessel to use:
Before Him were many, which one would He choose?
"Take me," cried the gold one. "I'm shiny and bright;
I'm of great value and I do things just right.
My beauty and luster will outshine the rest,
And for someone like you, Master, gold would be best."

The Master passed on with no word at all,
and looked at a silver urn, grand and tall.
"I'll serve you dear Master, I'll pour out your wine;
I'll be on your table whenever you dine.
My lines are so graceful, my carving so true,
and silver will always compliment you."

Unheeding, the Master passed on to the brass,
Wide-mouthed and shallow and polished like glass.
"Here, here!" cried the vessel, "I know I will do;
Place me on your table for all men to view."

"Look at me," called the goblet of crystal so clear,
"My transparency shows my contents so dear.
Though fragile am I, I will serve you with pride,
And I'm sure I'll be happy in your house to abide."

Then the Master came next to a vessel of wood;
polished and carved, it solidly stood.
"You may use me, dearest Master," the wooden bowl said.
"But I'd rather you used me for fruit, not for bread."

Then the Master looked down and saw a vessel of clay.
Empty and broken it helplessly lay.
No hope had the vessel that the Master might choose,
To cleanse, and make whole, to fill and to use.

"Ah! Now This is the vessel I've been hoping to find.
I'll mend it and use it and make it all mine.
I need not the vessel with pride of itself,
Nor one that is narrow to sit on the shelf;
Nor one that is big-mouthed and shallow and loud;
Nor one that displays his contents so proud;
Nor the one who thinks he can do things just right;
But this plain earthen vessel filled with power and might."

Then gently He lifted the vessel of clay,
Mended and cleansed it and filled it that day;
Spoke to it kindly - "There's work you must do...
Just pour out to others as I pour into you."


The Vessel by B.V. Cornwall

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