O plight of man, the folly it seems,
has at its end no resolve.
But instead, look now to yourselves,
or fall into grave detriment.
We, as children of old,
must find a way to permeate,
the ill that would befall.
In doing so our progeny may also come to find,
that strength lies in the minds of all,
who dare to raise their standards high,
and live without timidity.
Not letting others hold them down,
but breaking free restraints,
to show those who are yet to come,
of power that lies within.
Courage of mind and that of soul,
will be the legacy we leave,
to all who may follow the way.
Our lives lived desperately,
though hopefully not in vain,
if others come to realize,
that for which we fought.
Man of mystery, tall and proud, the gentleman to whom all bow,
Never acting fancy free, holding deep responsibilities.
His usual demeanor stiff, at parties rarely dancing,
Proper is the term to use, his bearing always proud,
His friends he holds in high esteem but strangers all beware.
A women at first glance he sees, finding in her no interest initially,
And yet she holds his guarded notice, though she is unaware.
Her laugh and smile captivate, though his pride will not concede,
In time his wary manner moves to reluctant venerate.
Other women of higher mores, seek his notice imprudently,
Schemes are plotted, lies produced, attempting to dethrone,
The one they find held in high esteem, the position they desire.
The schemes produced attempt to set a view in mind for him,
Of faults found in the woman seen as his supposed intent.
The scheme could not withstand the fact that love cannot be bought,
But for a fool we know, after all attempts pursued,
Failure inevitably will come, and with ignominy.
These lies, our man of mystery, will see through all deceit,
And in these intrigues he will find a conclusion he foreknew,
That the many socialites he knew, no truth in them he’d find.
This country girl did captivate his innermost desire,
Conflicting thoughts, confusing ardor will help to muddle things.
His friend he sees, in black and white, the clear solution there,
But for himself there does not seem a clear result in store.
So now he comes, one thought in mind, to attain the one he wants,
But in her stance, rebuttal comes with much aversion stayed,
His suit, dismissed and him rebuffed, his pride forever marred,
With dark eyes smoldering, affections now declined, will passion ever fain?
Our tall proud suitor, though denied, refuses to admit,
The soiled lies left at his door by those he doth despise.
With pen in hand, details he notes, intending to reveal,
The lies that turned the head of whom he once held high regard.
The letter now, with swift dispatch, in her possession lies,
And he must wait, for time will tell if truth regains the day.
But for his friend, he rectifies mistakes done in the past,
So that his friend may have the bride of his own first intent.
Initially, his strategy, was on correcting wrongs, but if, in doing so,
The one he loves, with sister now restored, his closest friend content,
Why should he not now use this ploy for his own accord?
A relative, amid adverse designs, endeavors to elicit evidence,
To verify her vexation, but using such tenacious artifice, one can clearly see,
The ruse this high bred lady has will have no result she means.
The harried attempt can only be wished to stimulate the mind,
Of one proud man of mystery, who is her true design.
In time, though never he changes his mind from what he means to have,
This country girl, though mayhap low, his heart she firmly holds.
Her prejudice, biased it was, when given early on,
But as she learned more of his makeup, other feelings came.
His principles, at first unjust, came from a loyal heart,
And as she saw his integrity her love for him grew firm.
Uncertain of his fate, his heart still in her hands, he ventured onward,
Boldly holding out his hand, wanting hers to grab a hold,
Offering his life to her, hoping that she’d take it,
Knowing he would resign his chase if she gave refusal.
Giving her a final chance, hoping for impossible, aware of how his family felt,
Not caring for their views, needing for her love bestowed,
Helping him to grow, knowing what her strength would give,
If ever she would choose to give him such a chance.
So as they tarried in a stroll, her thanks to him she gives,
For gratefulness in gracious acts he kindly had bestowed,
In doing so, her family’s name, was saved from certain ruin,
And silly young sister now had virtue held unspoiled.
Her thanks he did not want to heed, her heart was his intention,
And blushing prettily she professed, it was his for taking.
The declaration now proclaimed, their words flowed rapidly,
Forgiveness and apology was given and received,
The knowledge that their lives were now to intertwine,
Gave pleasure intense to that assured fact.
The sisters together, with grooms well at hand,
Gather in concert, family and friends.
On fine winter day, no snow in the air,
Their wedding was performed, the marriages approved.
The hearts of the couple very light indeed,
As this occasion was much anticipated,
Jane and her Bingley, most fervent affection,
And Darcy with Lizzie, his achieved objective.
Their family did welcome the newest additions,
And humbly accepted their previous opinions,
Knowing how mistaken their perceptions were,
And modestly instigating a new beginning.
Ever have one of those days when you feel as if you are not really physically there? Its a feeling like your drifting along not really part of the wrold but yet you are still participating in it. I get that feeling a lot. Most of the time I love it, because I can then choose to live inside a story, either of my own making or someone elses (that depends on what mood I am in). But it can also be a hinderance when I have homework to finish or some other work. I was in a similar funk today and wrote a couple of pages more in my new story that I am working on. It will not be posted here, my apologies, as it is a working progress, as most stories are.
Can you sit in silence when surrounded by sound,
Is there a way to even find out?
I can sit in silence, its floating everywhere
But even as I sit here, there are whispers all around.
I want to soak in silence, let it fill my pores,
Roam around this world of light
Without it having form.
The sounds that may come, not formed by words,
But by the whisperings of this world.
The sky and ground, rain and sun
All evoke sound to arise in this world.
From beings they encourage,
All created in nature, come forth,
Lifting their voices up to the heavens.
I raise my hands up to the sky,
Reveling in the sounds that arise all around.
I hear the wind as it blows through the trees,
I feel it whispering, pulling at me.
Then down pours the rain, soaking me through,
Stomping the ground, loudly like boots.
It lightens and finally the sun does appear,
Bringing forth life that had hidden in fear.
The buzzing of bees and singing of birds,
Musical they all now seeming to be.
The moon now comes up and with it, it brings,
The turning of tide in winter and spring.
The waves will come crashing, the sea breezes blow,
The nights will be restless but morning will show,
That all that was restless eventually calms,
And waves will come softly in light of the dawn.
Quiet to quiet, all things will endure,
With silence between them,
Beginning to end.
It is interesting that though you may know someone pretty well from having classes together, it can still be hard to get to really know them. The only time you see them is in school, so the only time you talk is in class. But you also know them well enough to help them with problems or sympathize with them and yet you still know you do not have that close friendship in which you feel you could call them up. It is an interesting phenomenon and one which many struggle with. I talked with a school friend about it last night and her comment was that we do this because if we put more time into the relationship we know we are investing ourselves in someone we are not sure we are ever likely see again. Any other thoughts on the subject?
here i stand uncertain, furtively seeking what is needed to be done next. done ... for what? my life - whats next i wonder? how to get there, how to find out where there is ... sigh! done - for school, too much! i feel my sanity slowly slipping away at times. well at least i have goals still that i will keep striving for even if i never reach then. i am tired, so tired at times. i wish ... for rest. to snuggle up with all my favorite books, to read those i have yet to find, sipping tea by a window watching the world swirl around me, hearing the ocean crash against the shore, feeling the sea breeze whip my hair around, climbing higher and higher up mountains and down streams ... to travel to all those mysterious place i am dying to see. i know that does not sound like resting but for me that would be the best kind of rest. who knows what God has in store for me, i will wait and see what His miraculous plan for my life is, for any plan of His will be miraculous.
Well, so much for my wish to have only one place to blog. I like the style of this, the way I could choose my face for this page. I hope this will be an artistic escape for me. A place where friends may comment and critic on writings or musings of mine. May it be so ...