Tuesday, April 08, 2014

An Older Poem

Every Color
24 November 2007, 2:57 PM

Any color is more itself with you,
content to see and, in seeing, be
seen- these fields of glorious green
and every tender flower
unfolding, fresh and white
beneath a fiery coral sun
and azure sky.

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George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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