Down by the salley gardens
my love and I did meet;
She passed the salley gardens
with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy,
as the leaves grow on the tree;
But I, being young and foolish,
with her would not agree.
In a field by the river
my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder
she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy,
as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish,
and now am full of tears.
A tourist looks back fondly upon
A favorite destination;
A traveler is always at it.
A tourist loathes travel hiccups;
A traveler calls them stories.
A tourist jumps from one
Postcard vista to the next;
A traveler moves through the world.
A tourist collects knicknacks & geegaws;
A traveler collects experiences.
A tourist, between sights, seeks
A life experience as close to
Their homelife as possible.
A traveler wants a life experience
As close to local as possible.
A tourist has a favorite meal;
A traveler assumes he hasn't
Crossed paths with it yet.
A tourist leaves nothing to chance;
A traveler embraces the spontaneous.
A tourist takes comfort as a main course;
A traveler uses it like a condiment.
Language can be complex, reason may sprawl,
And words don't always seem to point the way.
Extremes aren't always clear and distinct.
Overhauls are not always an upgrade.
The gist may dwell in a key phrase or two --
Those words the whip that make it race or stay.
Though multitudinous words are in place
They must do more than roar, hiss, or bray.
Overuse of the whip exhausts the horse --
Keep the impulse to whip too much at bay.
The original lines in Simplified Chinese are:
或文繁理富， 而意不指适。
极无两致， 尽不可益。
立片言而居要，乃一篇之警策。
虽众辞之有条，必待兹而效绩。
亮功多而累寡，故取足而不易。
unfurled buds,
not drooped to gravity,
tell Spring’s story.
What mysteries lie behind
That old green wooden door:
Carved elaborately
In bygone days?
On a street that features only sights
Both newer and more decrepit,
It stands out as a grand entrance
That begs something special
Beyond.
I’d hate to think it’s just
Old paint cans —
Half empty and congealed
Beyond usefulness.
I doubt it’s a brothel or speakeasy —
Too silent…
But a vault of lost masterpieces,
Inhabited by a hairy-legged spider,
Might not be too much to ask.
Ancient temple carved with features:
Beasts, men, gods and mythic creatures.
Imagine my surprise when I
Came face-to-face with this lil’ guy.
The lizard did his level best
To stay stock still with puffed-out chest.
To pass for a chiseled dragon,
But couldn’t keep its tail from waggin’.
Life contracts and death is expected,
As in a season of autumn.
The soldier falls.
He does not become a three-days personage,
Imposing his separation,
Calling for pomp.
Death is absolute and without memorial,
As in a season of autumn,
When the wind stops,
When the wind stops and, over the heavens,
The clouds go, nevertheless,
In their direction.
trunk splits to branches
that stretch to the edge
of oxygen’s crossing.
The Soul has Bandaged moments -
When too appalled to stir -
She feels some ghastly Fright come up
And stop to look at her -
Salute her, with long fingers -
Caress her freezing hair -
Sip, Goblin, from the very lips
The Lover - hovered - o'er -
Unworthy, that a thought so mean
Accost a Theme - so - fair -
The soul has moments of escape -
When bursting all the doors -
She dances like a Bomb, abroad,
And swings opon the Hours,
As do the Bee - delirious borne -
Long Dungeoned from his Rose -
Touch Liberty - then know no more -
But Noon, and Paradise
The Soul's retaken moments -
When, Felon led along,
With shackles on the plumed feet,
And staples, in the song,
The Horror welcomes her, again,
These, are not brayed of Tongue -
understory thrives:
light plants & shadow plants
each finds its place.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 