Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree—
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who will call the wild-briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly’s sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.
by
Who prop, thou ask’st in these bad days, my mind?
He much, the old man, who, clearest-souled of men,
Saw The Wide Prospect, and the Asian Fen,
And Tmolus hill, and Smyrna bay, though blind.
Much he, whose friendship I not long since won,
That halting slave, who in Nicopolis
Taught Arrian, when Vespasian’s brutal son
Cleared Rome of what most shamed him. But be his
My special thanks, whose even-balanced soul,
From first youth tested up to extreme old age,
Business could not make dull, nor passion wild;
Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole;
The mellow glory of the Attic stage,
Singer of sweet Colonus, and its child
by
without knowing
you have helped me
you are my mate
your a good friend
just being you
you have changed me
showing me how to
be confident
believe more in myself
become more assertive
I have been there for you
You have been there for me
I will always be there for you
you have shown me what i need
need to get on with my life
when i need someone, you are there
when you need someone i am here
but to help someone without knowing is
a gift
you gave me my life
you gave me hope
you gave me a good friend
by
Stacy Bea
Friendship is a box of secrets
That you can’t let go
But if there are beautiful colors
Friendship is like a rainbow.
It is also loyal and true
And it’s true to you and me.
You and me are sisters, don’t you see?
We are always going to be.
Friendship is something we can trust
Friendship is close to us
You are my sister, close to me
We are forever, don’t you see?
by
Jasmine Robert
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
by
Periwinkle dusk cradled in meringue-d moon –
Beams with tinged sun-drops each echoing its own
Crooning –love for day’s sweet end, far-flung skinny oaks
And ocher-ed waves of spindly marshes dance in the
Salty drink, architectural perspectives paint
The gentleness of each sentry’s uniform
Tenderly embracing reflection-ed wetness
Slowly emptying the tendril-ed ribbon-ed
Salty streams outward into the great Atlantic
Wilds, divided sepias outline the punctuat-
Ing dance with kisses of our entwined enchantment
Charleston salt flats welcoming lovers hungry souls
by
Debora Short
Who prop, thou ask’st in these bad days, my mind?
He much, the old man, who, clearest-souled of men,
Saw The Wide Prospect, and the Asian Fen,
And Tmolus hill, and Smyrna bay, though blind.
Much he, whose friendship I not long since won,
That halting slave, who in Nicopolis
Taught Arrian, when Vespasian’s brutal son
Cleared Rome of what most shamed him. But be his
My special thanks, whose even-balanced soul,
From first youth tested up to extreme old age,
Business could not make dull, nor passion wild;
Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole;
The mellow glory of the Attic stage,
Singer of sweet Colonus, and its child.
I saw a lonely little boy,
walking down a railroad track
I didn’t see a trace of joy
as I looked back
If I see him again,
I know what I’ll do
Say, Hi there friend,
Let’s play! me and you.
by
Sammy Lane Sharp
I saw a lonely little boy,
walking down a railroad track
I didn’t see a trace of joy
as I looked back
If I see him again,
I know what I’ll do
Say, Hi there friend,
Let’s play! me and you.
by
Sammy Lane Sharp
Kill me not
Till I love you.
Call me not
Till faith hate you.
Live in the heart core
Love like a hardcore.
Laze like a flowerbed
Be gazed like cool shed.
Lean as a ripe fruit
Rain like parachute.
Open the heart like sky
Let me be there and fly.
Till the day I live last
And beyond it when past.
by
Margan
