The Classics

Easter 2011-July 2011 098

Nov.-Dec. 2011 002

Nov.-Dec. 2011 075

Martins, Alan, Chili, Camping 003

Martins, Alan, Chili, Camping 138

Martins, Alan, Chili, Camping 218

Martins, Alan, Chili, Camping 226

Hiawassee-Brasstown Bald 020

Hiawassee-Brasstown Bald 037

Hiawassee-Brasstown Bald 034

Monarita Raging Burrito

Hiawassee-Brasstown Bald 040

Hiawassee-Brasstown Bald 055




Charleston, Coke, Melissa 093

Charleston, Coke, Melissa 147

Charleston, Coke, Melissa 230

Oct 10-Mar 11 399

Oct 10-Mar 11 333

Oct 10-Mar 11 326

Oct 10-Mar 11 330

Summer 2010 003

Summer 2010 022

Summer 2010 100

Summer 2010 101

Summer 2010 127

Summer 2010 164

Summer 2010 192

To be read at my funeral (although I’m not ready to die!)

If-By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too:

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same:

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings,

And never breathe a word about your loss:

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much:

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

The Arrow and the Song-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroken;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

Drop a Pebble in the Water-James W. Foley

Drop a pebble in the water:

Just a splash, and it is gone;

But there’s half-a-hundred ripples

Circling on and on and on,

Spreading, spreading from the center,

Flowing on out to the sea.

And there is no way of telling

Where the end is going to be.

Drop a pebble in the water;

In a minute you forget,

But there’s little waves a-flowing,

And there’s ripples circling yet,

And those little waves a-flowing

To a great big wave have grown;

You’ve disturbed a mighty river

Just by dropping in a stone.

Drop an unkind word, or careless:

In a minute it is gone;

But there’s half –a-hundred ripples

Circling on and on and on.

They keep spreading, spreading, spreading

From the center as they go,

And there is no way to stop them,

Once you’ve started them to flow.

Drop an unkind word, or careless:

In a minute you forget;

But there’s ripples circling yet,

And perhaps in some sad heart

A mighty wave of tears you’ve stirred,

And disturbed a life was happy

Ere you dropped that unkind word.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness:

Just a flash and it is gone;

But there’s half a hundred ripples

Circling on and on and on,

Bearing hope and joy and comfort

On each splashing, dashing wave

Till you wouldn’t believe the volume

Of the one kind word you gave.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness:

In a minute you forget;

But there’s gladness still a-swelling,

And there’s joy circling yet,

And you’ve rolled a wave of comfort

Whose sweet music can be heard

Over miles and miles of water

Just by dropping one kind word.

Like I said, Ms. Pollard was a good teacher. We had to do a project in ninth grade where we found poems for various circumstances and had to write our own. I used my parent’s collection of “Great Works” and they shared their favorites with me and I discovered some of my own. The poem I wrote was about wishes. I no longer have it, but if I could remember correctly, it rivaled the classics:) I tried to draw a wishbone on the cover to illustrate my paper, but my boyfriend at the time erased it and drew one for me that was better. I think various other people in my life erased it to try to draw the perfect one and make a wish. I hope that Goodwill or whoever has it now, has protected and treasured those words of poetry passed down from my family to me and will pass it down to the next generation.


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