Savannah Lyn Corse

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This is my little angel

Poems from my childhood

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

 

All the World's a Stage

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Dream within a dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

The Road not Taken

The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;
       

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,
       

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.
       

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Footprints

Christmas time

i love the christmas season. all of the parties, the lights and the christmas carols.
i remember growing up, my mother and i used to go to cookie parties together. they were so much fun. so many great cookies that we got to bring home.
The best christmas present that i ever got didn't even come on christmas, it came 2 days before. it weighed 6lbs 7oz and was 19 inches long. it was my daughter. That christmas we went to my parents house for a week. it was such a joyous time. i remember the christmas that i got a doll bed for my felicity. i was so excited. i think that was the same year that i got a doll closet too.

Thanksgiving

as i am sitting here enjoying a little bit of quiet time( curtis took Savannah with him to Burlington to pick up our friend who is joining us today)smelling the apple sauce cooking and getting ready to make the turkey, i am reminded of many thanksgivings at home. things that were so familiar like the smell of apple pie cooking or the turkey, listening to music while dad made his gravy, and just having the whole house filled with laughter and joy. it is a time for families to come together and be happy and eat lots of food. For many, it is that chance to see that favorite Aunt or Uncle who they don't see very often, of for parents to see their children who have married and moved away. it is a great excuse to get together don't you think?

NCIS

ok, now there is a show that no matter how many times you watch the smae episode, will still make you laugh every time. i am a serious die-hard NCIS fan, i have watched from Agent Todd to Zeva, From Gibbs mustache to no mustache, from the team being together, to being seperated to being back to gether again. that show is AWESOME. I do not miss a chance to watch this show. the creators have a way of throwing in little spots of humor that can be hilarious at times.

Famous Quotes....

"it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all." William Shakespeare

Okay, so what if you have a person who has been married only a few days to the love of their life and that person dies and then their life spins out of control and they become suicidal as a result of losing the person that they had loved? or what if someone gets rejected by someone that they love and they become a rapist or a serial killer who targets women (or men) who fit the profile of that one that had rejected them?
it begs the question, is it really "..better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all"?