“The Little Boy Lost” by William Blake [w/ Audio]

Father, father, where are you going
O do not walk so fast.
Speak father, speak to your little boy
Or else I shall be lost,

The night was dark no father was there
The child was wet with dew,
The mire was deep, & the child did weep
And away the vapour flew.

Faux Ice [Haiku]

the low morning sun
burns through gray clouds; the
still lake looks iced over

DAILY PHOTO: A Tree in the Savanna

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Black Mamba [Lyric Poem]

The Black Mamba is not black...
Well, it's black inside its mouth,
But if you're getting that view,
Things have definitely gone south.

“The morns are meeker than they were” (32) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

The morns are meeker than they were --
The nuts are getting brown --
The berry's cheek is plumper --
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf --
The field a scarlet gown --
Lest I sh'd be old-fashioned
I'll put a trinket on.

Rhino [Lyric Poem]

Away trots a baby rhino.
It's the smallest rhino that I know,
And, yet, if it trotted on your foot,
Your foot would definitely be kaput.

DAILY PHOTO: Symmetry

Morning Glow [Haiku]

a bloom falls to earth;
lit up by the morning sun,
it glows… for a time.

BOOKS: “Sweet Tooth, Vol. 4: Endangered Species” by Jeff Lemire

Sweet Tooth, Vol. 4: Endangered SpeciesSweet Tooth, Vol. 4: Endangered Species by Jeff Lemire
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Publisher Site: DC Vertigo

Heading north to solve the mystery of Gus (the titular deer-boy “hybrid” that some call Sweet Tooth, the first-known hybrid child and one who Dr. Singh believes may be integral to understanding the disease that swept through humanity at the same time hybrids started being born,) the ragtag group of hybrid kids and human chaperones runs into its first snag. The group stumbles upon a place that may offer the security and resources needed to live comfortably (i.e. for a post mega-pandemic wasteland.) This threatens to split up the group, most of which longs for the safety and sustainability that this place appears to provide. But the reader is presented crumbs of unease about this place. It feels like this sanctuary might harbor a dirty secret.

I continue to enjoy this series. I didn’t find the arc as satisfying as some of the volumes. It is a thriller, and we are given crucial new information by the book’s end, but the central question of the story arc remains unanswered. That said, the story does a fantastic job of building up internal tension as well as creating unease in the reader. If you’ve enjoyed the story so far, you will want to continue onward.

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“The Paradox” by Paul Laurence Dunbar [w/ Audio]

I am the mother of sorrows,
I am the ender of grief;
I am the bud and the blossom,
I am the late-falling leaf.

I am thy priest and thy poet,
I am thy serf and thy king;
I cure the tears of the heartsick,
When I come near they shall sing.

White are my hands as the snowdrop;
Swart are my fingers as clay;
Dark is my frown as the midnight,
Fair is my brow as the day.

Battle and war are my minions,
Doing my will as divine;
I am the calmer of passions,
Peace is a nursling of mine.

Speak to me gently or curse me,
Seek me or fly from my sight;
I am thy fool in the morning,
Thou art my slave in the night.

Down to the grave will I take thee,
Out from the noise of the strife;
Then shalt thou see me and know me --
Death, then, no longer, but life.

Then shalt thou sing at my coming,
Kiss me with passionate breath,
Clasp me and smile to have thought me
Aught save the foeman of Death.

Come to me, brother, when weary,
Come when thy lonely heart swells;
I'll guide thy footsteps and lead thee
Down where the Dream Woman dwells.