“The quality of mercy is not strained” by William Shakespeare [w/ Audio]

The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.
Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.

From The Merchant of Venice (Act IV, Scene I.) Spoken in a court of law by Portia while she is disguised as a lawyer, Balthazar.

Hyena [Lyric Poem]

The Hyena is renowned for its cackle--
Not so of bats, birds, snakes, whales or jackals.
So, why such an intense sense of humor?
Perhaps, it's just a human-lampooner.

African Tulip [Haiku]

dense bloom clusters
of one week are a carpet
on the ground the next.

PROMPT: Expensive

Name the most expensive personal item you’ve ever purchased (not your home or car).

Wedding ring? Probably. Possibly a sword.

DAILY PHOTO: Proclamation of Independence Memorial, Melaka

Baboon [Lyric Poem]

I would never wish to impugn
That noble creature, the baboon.
Some say mean things about their fangs,
But about their gnarly butts-- DAAANG!

Ostrich [Lyric Poem]

For the Ostrich, I feel quite bad:
The bird's great gift, it never had.
But, a flighted one, I don't wish to see;
I'd hate to have a falling one land on me.

DAILY PHOTO: Sultanate Palace, Melaka

Image

“Shiloh: A Requiem” by Herman Melville [w/ Audio]

Skimming lightly, wheeling still,
The swallows fly low
Over the field in clouded days,
The forest-field of Shiloh--
Over the field where April rain
Solaced the parched ones stretched in pain
Through the pause of night
That followed the Sunday fight
Around the church of Shiloh--
The church so lone, the log-built one,
That echoed to many a parting groan
And natural prayer
Of dying foemen mingled there--
Foemen at morn, but friends at eve--
Fame or country least their care:
(What like a bullet can undeceive!)
But now they lie low,
While over them the swallows skim,
And all is hushed in Shiloh.

Late to the Hunt [Senryū]

tardy deer hunter
finds a deer grazing beside
his hunter's stand.