What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones,The labor of an age in pilèd stones,Or that his hallowed relics should be hidUnder a star-ypointing pyramid?Dear son of Memory, great heir of fame,What need’st thou such weak witness of thy name?Thou in our wonder and astonishmentHast built thyself a live-long monument.For whilst to th’ shame of …
To be fair, I'm celebrating this first anniversary a little bit late. But Holy Week took precedence! But even without a new baby and one of the highlights of the Church Year, this date sort of snuck up on me. I had been thinking about my book as I've been writing poetry over the last …
"Wash me, and dry these bitter tears, O let my heart no further roam, ’Tis Thine by vows, and hopes, and fears. Long since—O call Thy wanderer home; To that dear home, safe in Thy wounded side, Where only broken hearts their sin and shame may hide."
“Yes—deep within and deeper yet The rankling shaft of conscience hide,Quick let the swelling eye forget The tears that in the heart abide.Calm be the voice, the aspect bold, No shuddering pass o’er lip or brow,For why should Innocence be told The pangs that guilty spirits bow? “The loving eye that watches thine Close as …
Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,Hang out the washing and butter the bread,Sew on a button and make up a bed.Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking. Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).Dishes are waiting …
Madelyn Rose Craig 