~Quote

“Life can be wildly tragic at times, and I've had my share.
But whatever happens to you, you have to keep
a slightly comic attitude.
In the final analysis, you have got
not to forget to laugh.”
by Katharine Hepburn

~Poem for Christmas!

Clement Clarke Moore (1779 - 1863)
wrote the poem Twas the night before Christmas
also called “A Visit from St. Nicholas" in 1822.
It is now the tradition in many American families
to read the poem every Christmas Eve.

“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blixen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Poem by Clement Clarke Moore
http://www.carols.org.uk
Image~by svetoknz

~Photo Art~

Once upon a time,
I thought faeries lived only in books,
old folktales, and the past.
That was before they burst upon my life as vibrant,
luminous beings, permeating my art
and
my everyday existence,
causing glorious havoc.
~Brian Froud

 

To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people and
the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics
and to endure the betrayal of false friends.
To appreciate beauty;
to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better whether
by a healthy child,
a garden patch,
or a redeemed social condition;
to know that even one life has breathed easier
because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

I will honor Christmas in my heart,
and try to keep it all the year.

quote by Charles Dickens
art unknown to me

Along the clover-field I ran
To where the little wood began,
And there I understood at last
Why I had come so far, so fast
On every leaf of every tree
A fairy sat and smiled at me!

From ‘Fairies and Chimneys’ by Rose Fyleman
First published by George Duran
Source

Sitting under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),

One last candle burning low,
All the sleepy dancers gone,
Just one candle burning on,
Shadows lurking everywhere:
Some one came, and kissed me there.

Tired I was; my head would go
Nodding under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),

No footsteps came, no voice, but only,
Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely,
Stooped in the still and shadowy air
Lips unseen - and kissed me there.

a Christmas poem by Walter de la Mare
~LINK~

“I believe a leaf of grass is no less
than the journey-work of the stars.”
—Walt Whitman, born June 5, 1819

“He’ll be famous — a legend — I wouldn’t be
surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day
in the future — there will be books written about Harry
— every child in our world will know his name!” —

J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

~Market Square

I had a penny,
A bright new penny,
I took my penny
To the market square.
I wanted a rabbit,
A little brown rabbit,
And I looked for a rabbit
'Most everywhere.

For I went to the stall where they sold sweet lavender
("Only a penny for a bunch of lavender!").
"Have you got a rabbit, 'cos I don't want lavender?"
But they hadn't got a rabbit, not anywhere there.

I had a penny,
And I had another penny,
I took my pennies
To the market square.
I did want a rabbit,
A little baby rabbit,
And I looked for rabbits
'Most everywhere.

 
And I went to the stall where they sold fresh mackerel
("Now then! Tuppence for a fresh-caught mackerel!").
"Have you got a rabbit, 'cos I don't like mackerel?"
But they hadn't got a rabbit, not anywhere there.

I found a sixpence,
A little white sixpence.
I took it in my hand
To the market square.
I was buying my rabbit
I do like rabbits),
And I looked for my rabbit
'Most everywhere.

So I went to the stall where they sold fine saucepans
("Walk up, walk up, sixpence for a saucepan!").
"Could I have a rabbit, 'cos we've got two saucepans?"
But they hadn't got a rabbit, not anywhere there.

I had nuffin',
No, I hadn't got nuffin',
So I didn't go down
To the market square;
But I walked on the common,
The old-gold common...
And I saw little rabbits
'Most everywhere!

So I'm sorry for the people who sell fine saucepans,
I'm sorry for the people who sell fresh mackerel,
I'm sorry for the people who sell sweet lavender,
'Cos they haven't got a rabbit, not anywhere there!

by A.A Milne

~The Bookstall

Just looking at them 
I grow greedy,
as if they were freshly baked loaves 
waiting on their shelves 
to be broken open—that one 
and that—and I make my choice 
in a mood of exalted luck, 
browsing among them 
like a cow in sweetest pasture. 
.
For life is continuous 
as long as they wait 
to be read—these inked paths 
opening into the future, page 
after page, every book 
its own receding horizon. 
And I hold them, one in each hand, 
a curious ballast weighting me 
here to the earth.

by Linda Pastan, Carnival Evening

Photo: Flourish & Blotts,
the bookstore in the Harry Potter series.

“I believe that imagination is stronger
than knowledge.
That myth is more potent than history.
That dreams are more powerful than facts.
That hope always triumphs over experience.
That laughter is the only cure for grief.
And I believe that love is stronger
than death.”
~Robert Fulghum

I wonder if
the snow loves the trees and fields,
that it kisses them so gently?
And then it covers them up snug,
you know, with a white quilt; 
and perhaps it says
“Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”

by Lewis Carroll
Art by Ida Rentoul Outhwaite

  ”When anxious, uneasy and bad thoughts come,
I go to the sea, and the sea drowns them out
with its great wide sounds,
cleanses me with its noise, and imposes
a rhythm upon everything in me
that is bewildered and confused.”
~Rainer Maria Rilke
Art by Abbott Fuller Graves (1859 – 1936)

~Lord of the Rings

When the moon was new and the sun young
of silver and gold the gods sung:
in the green grass they silver spilled,
and the white waters they with gold filled.
Ere the pit was dug or Hell yawned,
ere dwarf was bred of dragon spawned,
there were Elves of old, and strong spells
under green hills in hollow dells
they sang as they wrought many fair things,
and the bright crowns of the Elf-kings.
But their doom fell, and their song waned,
by iron hewn and by steel chained.
Greed that sang not, nor with mouth smiled,
in dark holes their wealth piled,
graven silver and carven gold:
over Elvenhome the shadow rolled.

Read More

The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary
so that the necessary may speak.

unknown to me
Art by Claire Fletcher

~HAVE A LOVELY

SUNDAY~

Once upon a time,
I thought faeries lived only in books,
old folktales, and the past.
That was before they burst upon my
life as vibrant, luminous beings,
permeating my art and my everyday existence,
causing glorious havoc.
~Brian Froud

“No, I would not want to live in a world
without dragons, as I would not want to
live in a world without magic,
for that is a  world without mystery,
and that is a world without faith.”
~R.A. Salvatore, Streams of Silver
Art found here~

Streams Of Silver is the second book
by R.A. Salvatore in the Icewind Dale trilogy
and the fifth of the Legend of Drizzt novels.
Originally published in 1989 by TSR in paperback
and rereleased by Wizards of the Coast in 2005
~VIA~