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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 1 2012, 3:13pm
Post #1 of 34
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Weekly poetry thread.
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Hello again! It's been wonderful seeing all the poems posted the past couple of weeks, including some old favorites and some that were new to me. Again, the idea is to post one of your favorite poems, either written by someone else or one of your own. I'll put my offering for this week in a reply post. It's one I learned about just this week, that fits right in with the Day of the Dead today.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 1 2012, 3:22pm
Post #2 of 34
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Last week our church was shocked by the sudden and very unexpected death of a church member in his fifties. His service was Saturday, and on Sunday we had our annual Day of the Dead service (our minister is of Russian Jewish extraction, but he spent time as a chaplain in a prison in Mexico City, and so he sometimes brings us Mexican traditions, including this one.) At the Sunday service, we sang this hymn, which was a favorite of the man who had died. We sang it in his honor, and to honor all our beloved dead. In the hymnal, it said the hymn was adapted from a poem, so I went looking online and found it. The author is from Senegal, and he did a lot of work collecting African folk tales. In a way, I think the abridged version of the hymn is better, but I love the poem too : Spirits By Birago Diop Listen to Things More often than Beings, Hear the voice of fire, Hear the voice of water. Listen in the wind, To the sighs of the bush; This is the ancestors breathing. Those who are dead are not ever gone; They are in the darkness that grows lighter And in the darkness that grows darker. The dead are not down in the earth; They are in the trembling of the trees In the groaning of the woods, In the water that runs, In the water that sleeps, They are in the hut, they are in the crowd: The dead are not dead. Listen to things More often than beings, Hear the voice of fire, Hear the voice of water. Listen in the wind, To the bush that is sighing: This is the breathing of ancestors, Who have not gone away Who are not under earth Who are not really dead. Those who are dead are not ever gone; They are in a woman’s breast, In the wailing of a child, And the burning of a log, In the moaning rock, In the weeping grasses, In the forest and the home. The dead are not dead. Listen more often To Things than to Beings, Hear the voice of fire, Hear the voice of water. Listen in the wind to The bush that is sobbing: This is the ancestors breathing. Each day they renew ancient bonds, Ancient bonds that hold fast Binding our lot to their law, To the will of the spirits stronger than we To the spell of our dead who are not really dead, Whose covenant binds us to life, Whose authority binds to their will, The will of the spirits that stir In the bed of the river, on the banks of the river, The breathing of spirits Who moan in the rocks and weep in the grasses. Spirits inhabit The darkness that lightens, the darkness that darkens, The quivering tree, the murmuring wood, The water that runs and the water that sleeps: Spirits much stronger than we, The breathing of the dead who are not really dead, Of the dead who are not really gone, Of the dead now no more in the earth. Listen to Things More often than Beings, Hear the voice of fire, Hear the voice of water. Listen in the wind, To the bush that is sobbing: This is the ancestors, breathing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Magpie
Immortal
Nov 1 2012, 4:25pm
Post #3 of 34
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For Witches today I lost my temper. temper, when one talks of metal means strong, perfect. temper, for humans, means angry irrational bad today I found my temper. I said, you step on my head for 27 years you step on my head and though I have been trained to excuse you for your inevitable clumsiness today i think I prefer my head to your clumsiness today I began to find myself. tomorrow perhaps I will begin to find you. -Susan Sutheim (1969) note.. the voice speaking in this poem isn't 'mine' in any literal way. No one has stepped on my head for 27 years. But I do like the idea of sometimes choosing one's own well being over other people's 'clumsiness.' And I like the brief discussion of the nuances of 'temper.' This is a poem I found and wrote down in a notebook and kept. I don't do that with many poems (other than all my fairy poems and haiku which came much later in my life!).
LOTR soundtrack website ~ magpie avatar gallery TORn History Mathom-house ~ Torn Image Posting Guide
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 1 2012, 4:47pm
Post #4 of 34
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The wonderful examination of the word "temper", the line "Today I found my temper" which plays on both of those meanings, and the marvelous threat at the end :-D I have a notebook where I copied down many of my favorite poems by hand when I was a teenager. Nowadays I print them up from the internet and put them in a binder. I think I'll do that with this one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 1 2012, 4:58pm
Post #5 of 34
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maybe that wasn't a threat at the end. But I kind of like the way I saw it on my first reading :-D
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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batik
Tol Eressea
Nov 1 2012, 6:31pm
Post #7 of 34
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Here's one from another poet I Iearned of in Freshman English (likely the poem was Theme for English B). I like many of Langston Hughes' poems and it's hard to pick one but for it's visual, lyrical prettiness.... In Time Of Silver Rain In time of silver rain The earth puts forth new life again, Green grasses grow And flowers lift their heads, And over all the plain The wonder spreads Of Life, Of Life, Of life! In time of silver rain The butterflies lift silken wings To catch a rainbow cry, And trees put forth new leaves to sing In joy beneath the sky As down the roadway Passing boys and girls Go singing, too, In time of silver rain When spring And life Are new. Langston Hughes
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Ciars
Rohan
Nov 1 2012, 6:53pm
Post #8 of 34
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The weather and Emily Dickinson...
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I thought part 5 of Emily Dickinson's Time and Eternity was appropriate in the context of the aftermath of Superstorm Sandy.... On this long storm the rainbow rose, On this late morn the sun; The clouds, like listless elephants, Horizons straggled down. The birds rose smiling in their nests, The gales indeed were done; Alas! how heedless were the eyes On whom the summer shone! The quiet nonchalance of death No daybreak can bestir; The slow archangel’s syllables Must awaken her.
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 1 2012, 7:19pm
Post #10 of 34
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That one's in our hymnal too :-) //
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 1 2012, 7:21pm
Post #11 of 34
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That's pretty powerful in context. And like the one Magpie posted about "temper", there's more than one kind of "storm" going on in this poem.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Ciars
Rohan
Nov 1 2012, 8:41pm
Post #12 of 34
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I'd always thought Dickinson's poem is very similar in message to Yeat's second coming (below) in that the "summer" is the prelude to the"judgement", like the birds we are oblivious to the storm that will cleanse prior to the angels calling. However whist Dickinson has some hope for us in the "rainbow" Yeats has none. But Dickinson's does have added depth when read alongside Sandy's chaos.... The Second Coming TURNING and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
(This post was edited by Ciars on Nov 1 2012, 8:44pm)
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wendy woo
Rivendell
Nov 2 2012, 12:13am
Post #13 of 34
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I found this one on the Internet Archive
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"Love" by Nathalia Crane Now Marjory is seven years, And I am nine and more. We went a-strolling after cream Into a Flatbush store. The handsome clerk said "Ladies, yes, I'll serve you with a rush." He looked so very scrumptious that We both began to blush. He smiled at us, we smiled at him. And then we went away: We were so captivated, yes, That we forgot to pay. Of course we could have sauntered back, And settled, don't you see, But oh, we could not stain romance With monetary fee. I love Nathalia Crane. All of her poems are full of this kind of humor, especially any poem she wrote about the Janitor's Boy (on whom she had a crush).
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance--e.e. cummings
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Annael
Immortal
Nov 2 2012, 4:22pm
Post #14 of 34
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Since I'm going to hear David Whyte tonight
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and because it's Nanowrimo, here's one from him.
The way we imagine our lives is the way we are going to go on living our lives. - James Hillman, Healing Fiction * * * * * * * * * * NARF and member of Deplorable Cultus since 1967
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 2 2012, 5:35pm
Post #15 of 34
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I really love that. Especially this: you were invited from another and greater night than the one from which you have just emerged. Are you doing NaNoWriMo? Good luck! Once was enough for me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 2 2012, 5:37pm
Post #16 of 34
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It's like Dorothy Parker for kids :-D
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Thanks, that was fun!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Annael
Immortal
Nov 2 2012, 9:36pm
Post #17 of 34
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gotta write my defense presentation, and also prepare for five concerts, on top of my new job. Maybe next year.
The way we imagine our lives is the way we are going to go on living our lives. - James Hillman, Healing Fiction * * * * * * * * * * NARF and member of Deplorable Cultus since 1967
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Kangi Ska
Half-elven
Nov 3 2012, 6:32am
Post #18 of 34
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For treasure I am drawn To share-turned fields in early spring, To summer dusty river banks (a scramble down to empty bed), To bare road cuts, to quarries’ bitter gouge, To desert canyon’s burning gorge, to the beaten verge of wild seas, To pathless wooded hills Where ancient glacial melt laid rippled sand, Now stone, beneath the fallen layered leaves. Bent backed, hand held to shield the sun To look…to look again. To try to learn to see…to see at last. To reach and touch, to lift and hold To brush and rub away the haze of age To find and know its truth. Kangi Ska
Kangi Ska Resident Trickster & Wicked White Crebain Life is an adventure, not a contest. At night you can not tell if crows are black or white.
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Kangi Ska
Half-elven
Nov 3 2012, 6:38am
Post #19 of 34
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Though moon, swift silver, breaks the cloud No bright-eyed wolves will call it down No Faerie dance enchanted rings The city’s light consumes all things. By stone, by steel, this night is bound. The rumble-roar of freeway drowns The sacred song that North Wind sings To Autumn’s leaves and feathered wings. Kangi Ska
Kangi Ska Resident Trickster & Wicked White Crebain Life is an adventure, not a contest. At night you can not tell if crows are black or white.
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Kangi Ska
Half-elven
Nov 3 2012, 6:48am
Post #20 of 34
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‘Twas Midsummer’s in a wondrous land Where rollicked the last Aegean Ram To music made with harp and gong Driven madly by the Hatter’s song. Loud sang he then, his lyric truth Bequeathed to him in blushing youth. By Father’s Mother’s Brother’s wife ‘Twas his core philosophy of life. “Oh Walrus spin and Dodo whirl While Caterpillar’s bagpipes skirl And all you nauseating nasty beasts Turn a kolo on this reef Beneath the clouds of dun and dinge That hang the sky a wild fringe.” Down she fell, by happenstance, A witness to this frantic dance A witless child merely ten That only sought her home again. “So, silly girl of golden curl, Your salty sea of tears has swirled And torn apart our wondrous land Leaving just this strip of sand This last of things, both near and far A stinking sinking mud caked bar.” In time poor Alice found her wits Smoothed rumpled dress and combed the bits Of kelp leaves from her sodden hair Stepped carefully across to where The Hatter stood, his eyes ablaze, His mind escaped to better days, To rosy times in garden green And croquet with his friend the Queen. But sir, I say, it is absurd To blame me for your loss of earth I was not here! How could it be? That I caused this catastrophe? Kangi Ska
Kangi Ska Resident Trickster & Wicked White Crebain Life is an adventure, not a contest. At night you can not tell if crows are black or white.
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Kangi Ska
Half-elven
Nov 3 2012, 7:01am
Post #21 of 34
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Mary Oliver - Wild Geese You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -- over and over announcing your place in the family of things.
Kangi Ska Resident Trickster & Wicked White Crebain Life is an adventure, not a contest. At night you can not tell if crows are black or white.
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 3 2012, 1:22pm
Post #22 of 34
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It's really comforting, and it speaks to me. Thanks for bringing it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 3 2012, 1:25pm
Post #23 of 34
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I love what you've done with all those familiar images. It reads like a dance. And yet there's something dark there too. And it's echoing the scene I was reading yesterday in "The Road to Oz", where Dorothy falls down a crack in the ground during an earthquake, to a glass city where she's blamed for the damage caused by the fall of stones.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 3 2012, 1:27pm
Post #24 of 34
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It can't drown it out completely, though.
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This reminds me somewhat of my morning commute in heavy traffic before the sun comes up. Sometimes I look above the highway at Venus in the rosy sky, and it's so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Aunt Dora Baggins
Immortal
Nov 3 2012, 2:51pm
Post #25 of 34
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I"m trying to understand this one.
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Archeology? Geology? Nice imagery.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories leleni at hotmail dot com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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