Ellie@Home by Nicole Kapise-Perkins

by those who succeed! (Sorry Emily) I received word late Friday morning that I have been hired by Hospice of Franklin County as a Human Resource Generalist, O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! (Sorry Lewis) I don't know when I'll be starting full-time, probably next week. In the meantime, I shall wallow in my success, and leave you with this poem by Emma Lazarus. Success - Poem by Emma Lazarus  Oft have I brooded on defeat and pain, The pathos of the stupid, stumbling throng. These I ignore to-day and only long To pour my soul forth in one trumpet strain, One clear, grief-shattering, triumphant song, For all the victories of man's high endeavor, Palm-bearing, laurel deeds that live forever, The splendor clothing him whose will is strong. Hast thou beheld the deep, glad eyes of one Who has persisted and achieved? Rejoice! On naught diviner shines the all-seeing sun. Salute him with free heart and choral voice, 'Midst flippant, feeble crowds of spectres wan, The bold,

The internet is an amazing thing, almost as amazing as the people whose work pops up when you do an internet search for "Friday poems."                                                  -Friday-  What is that cacophony of emotion that falls out of the sky and into my head when the words "It's Friday" are said? Comical and all as it is, I have really fallen for her; for Friday. Over and over again. Forever hopeful and rarely inconsistent. Full of promise, never bad intent. I wish you were my Friday.   Dot   (Feb 2015)  https://hellopoetry.com/words/friday/

...and so fragile it is. I am waiting for news of a new employment venture, having been bumped out of a job that I loved due to department consolidations and building mergers. I have been keeping busy, doing part-time work for the facility I was working at full-time, but a potential opportunity has arisen, and I interviewed for it last Friday. I am naturally a pessimistic person; positive thinking is not natural to me. In recent years though, I have become more hopeful, more positive, willing to believe that good things do come to those that wait, and believe, and hope. And so today I will continue to hope and wait, and build my plans on being successful in my ventures.         To be of use By Marge Piercy  

The crab apple tree outside my window is bejeweled with buds the color of pale emeralds; crystalline raindrops sparkle on branches. My tree looks as though she is ready to go to the ball and meet Prince Charming. Soon she will be decked in bridal white, blossoms dancing in the breeze, the loveliest of trees.  Loveliest of Trees A. E. Housman , 1859 - 1936 Loveliests of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide. Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from seventy springs a score, It only leaves me fifty more. And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room, About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow.              https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/loveliest-trees

It's SNOWING! It's April 3rd, and it's snowing! This shouldn't surprise me; I had planned a big bash for my 30th birthday on April 16, 2007, and we had to cancel it due to an icy-sleety-snowy-mess falling from the sky. April in New England means snow, rain, snow in the morning then 55 degrees in the afternoon like yesterday...you get the idea. So in honor of April's weird weather issues, I give you this poem by Mary Oliver. White-Eyes                                              By Mary Oliver                                                 In winter     all the singing is in          the tops of the trees              where the wind-bird with its white eyes     shoves and pushes          among the branches.              Like any of us he wants to go to sleep,     but he's restless—          he has an idea,              and slowly it unfolds from under his beating wings     as long as he s

Hello, and Happy April! Today is the first day of National Poetry Month 2018, and I have a lovely springtime poem to share with you, written by Robert Herrick. To Daffodils By Robert Herrick Fair Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising sun Has not attain'd his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray'd together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a spring; As quick a growth to meet decay, As you, or anything. We die As your hours do, and dry Away, Like to the summer's rain;