Late, by myself, in the boat of myself,
no light and no land anywhere,
cloudcover thick. I try to stay
just above the surface,
yet I’m already under
and living with the ocean.
—From Essential Rumi, Coleman Barks
“FIREFLIES”: Photo by Steve Irvine, Ontario
Fireflies in the Garden
By Robert Frost
Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can’t sustain the part.
———————
Back Yard
by Carl Sandburg
Shine on, O moon of summer.
Shine to the leaves of grass, catalpa and oak,
All silver under your rain to-night.
An Italian boy is sending songs to you to-night from an accordion.
A Polish boy is out with his best girl; they marry next month;
to-night they are throwing you kisses.
An old man next door is dreaming over a sheen that sits in a
cherry tree in his back yard.
The clocks say I must go—I stay here sitting on the back porch drinking
white thoughts you rain down.
Shine on, O moon,
Shake out more and more silver changes.
——————–
STRANGE FITS OF PASSION HAVE I KNOWN”
By the always moon-obsessed Wordsworth
STRANGE fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the Lover’s ear alone,
What once to me befell.
When she I loved looked every day
Fresh as a rose in June,
I to her cottage bent my way,
Beneath an evening-moon.
Upon the moon I fixed my eye,
All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my horse drew nigh
Those paths so dear to me.
And now we reached the orchard-plot;
And, as we climbed the hill,
The sinking moon to Lucy’s cot
Came near, and nearer still.
In one of those sweet dreams I slept,
Kind Nature’s gentlest boon!
And all the while my eyes I kept
On the descending moon.
My horse moved on; hoof after hoof
He raised, and never stopped:
When down behind the cottage roof,
At once, the bright moon dropped.
What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a Lover’s head!
“O mercy!” to myself I cried,
“If Lucy should be dead!”
As a kid I used to catch fireflies in a jar but was always disappointed with the results, lol.
that’s why you put holes in the lid on the Mason jar, dude.
Actually I did put holes in the lid and one other thang, man. Where I come from they are called “lightnin’ bugs.”
I know, I think I was about 40 when I heard of a “firefly” and I was like, what’s that? Always loved Mark Twain’s quote about good writing: the difference in the right word and the wrong word is the difference in lightning and the lightning bug.” Or maybe it was lightning rod. He gets quoted so much it’s hard to know what he actually said sometimes but when I made my pilgrimage to Twain country years ago I remember a guide telling me he had a special, lifelong fondness for lightning bugs. I guess anybody who ever chased them around a lot does.
Twain does have a lot of good quotes but Frank Zappa is hard to beat, lol.
Old Ben Franklin has a lot of goodies, too.
The following are all from FZ.
“Most rock journalism is people who can’t write, interviewing people who can’t talk, for people who can’t read.” That is one of my faves and one of the few that are appropriate for this forum.
Another: “Without deviation progress is not possible.” Or “A mind is like a parachute. It doesnt work if it’s not open.”
I’ll quit because I could get carried away.
I love taking my girls out to catch lightning bugs. The bugs are slow enough that everyone can catch a few and then we can go back and watch them light up in the mason jar afterward.
Hi Cotton Boll Conspiracy,
Love the name and after quickly perusing your blog, I think I would enjoy that too.
Y’all take care now and don’t be surprised if I pop up on your blog sometime.
Much obliged, louisva. I’ll take all the visitors I can get.