Armin Shaya

17/05/2022

26/04/2022

To-night the west o'er-brims with warmest dyes;
Its chalice overflows
With pools of purple colouring the skies,
Aflood with gold and rose;
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine,
As sinks the sun within that world of wine.
I seem to hear a bar of music float
And swoon into the west;
My ear can scarcely catch the whispered note,
But something in my breast
Blends with that strain, till both accord in one,
As cloud and colour blend at set of sun.
And twilight comes with grey and restful eyes,
As ashes follow flame.
But O! I heard a voice from those rich skies
Call tenderly my name;
It was as if some priestly fingers stole
In benedictions o'er my lonely soul.
I know not why, but all my being longed
And leapt at that sweet call;
My heart outreached its arms, all passion thronged
And beat against Fate's wall,
Crying in utter homesickness to be
Near to a heart that loves and leans to me….👌🏻♥️😍☁️🌸🌅💫

24/04/2022

Change is the order of the universe.
Worlds wax and wane; suns die and stars are born.
Two atoms of cosmic dust unite, cohere
And lo the building of a world begun…..👌🏻♥️😍🍃🌿💚💫
Change By Hanford Lennox Gordon

22/04/2022

As a seed, I was shot out the back end of a blue jay
when, heedless, she flew over the meadow.
She had swallowed me in my homeland when she spied me
lying easy under the sun—briefly, I called her Mother
before I passed through her gullet like a ghost.
In a blink of God’s eye I was an orphan. I trembled
where I fell, alone in the dirt. That first night
was a long night, early May and chilly, and I remember
rain filled my furrow. I called out for mercy—
only a wolverine wandered by. I cursed my luck,
I cursed the happenstance of this world, I smelled
his hot stink, but he nosed me deep into the mud—
this was the gift of obscurity. I germinated, hidden
from the giants of earth, the jostling stalks,
the various, boisterous bloomers, and this was my salvation.
After seven days and nights I pushed through—
yes. Here I am, kissable: your tiny, purple profusion…..👌🏻😍♥️🌼🌿🍃💫
Wild Pansy Lisa Bellamy

21/04/2022

Do you ever watch the sunset
And just sit and think about things
Just you and the sky and darkness
Giving your thoughts some wings

Perhaps you've got some troubles
And don't know what to do
Or you just plain need to get away
To spend a little time with you

Sunset beauty makes you feel as though
Your life has meaning after all
To see a sight so extraordinary
Makes you feel capable, strong and tall

It's funny how flashes of color
Like a sunset or sunrise can inspire
It can calm your inner self a bit
It's a scene you can never tire

The serenity gives you a chance
To put things in perspective
Life can be overwhelming at times
And a sunset can be reflective

So when the sky lights up next time
Let your gaze do some drinking
Soak up all the amazing sights
And do some sunset thinking!

20/04/2022

Plants precious to my mother-in-law were
to me an oxymoron..things which could demand attention.
She left an unwanted house full of
them.. The dogs and cats tore some apart.
Some died of neglect. One was left.. year
after year she endured..in a dark corner with
occasional watering..and the tooth marks
of hostile attention.
The 10th year... one morning...
upsurging from the center of her green swords
was a rod of slender white
bells eighteen inches high..
The sweetest fragrance
poured from them as
they silently rang
in mystical beauty,
enduring spirit.
She taught me that
she had feelings..
and rights
and resurrection power
in God's light….👌🏻♥️😍💚🍃🌿💫

19/04/2022

Why should this flower delay so long
To show its tremulous plumes?
Now is the time of plaintive robin-song,
When flowers are in their tombs.
Through the slow summer, when the sun
Called to each frond and whorl
That all he could for flowers was being done,
Why did it not uncurl?
It must have felt that fervid call
Although it took no heed,
Waking but now, when leaves like corpses fall,
And saps all retrocede.
Too late its beauty, lonely thing,
The season's shine is spent,
Nothing remains for it but shivering
In tempests turbulent.

Had it a reason for delay,
Dreaming in witlessness
That for a bloom so delicately gay
Winter would stay its stress?
I talk as if the thing were born
With sense to work its mind;
Yet it is but one mask of many worn
By the Great Face behind…..👌🏻♥️😍🍃💚🌿💫
The Last Chrysanthemum By Thomas Hardy

18/04/2022

Give me hunger,
O you gods that sit and give
The world its orders.
Give me hunger, pain and want,
Shut me out with shame and failure
From your doors of gold and fame,
Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!

But leave me a little love,
A voice to speak to me in the day end,
A hand to touch me in the dark room
Breaking the long loneliness.
In the dusk of day-shapes
Blurring the sunset,
One little wandering, western star
Thrust out from the changing shores of shadow.
Let me go to the window,
Watch there the day-shapes of dusk
And wait and know the coming
Of a little love….
At a Window By Carl Sandburg

17/04/2022

Hard seeds of hate I planted
That should by now be grown,—
Rough stalks, and from thick stamens
A poisonous pollen blown,
And odors rank, unbreathable,
From dark corollas thrown!
At dawn from my damp garden
I shook the chilly dew;
The thin boughs locked behind me
That sprang to let me through;
The blossoms slept,—I sought a place
Where nothing lovely grew.
And there, when day was breaking,
I knelt and looked around:
The light was near, the silence
Was palpitant with sound;
I drew my hate from out my breast
And thrust it in the ground.
Oh, ye so fiercely tended,
Ye little seeds of hate!
I bent above your growing
Early and noon and late,
Yet are ye drooped and pitiful,—
I cannot rear ye straight!
The sun seeks out my garden,
No nook is left in shade,
No mist nor mold nor mildew
Endures on any blade,
Sweet rain slants under every bough:
Ye falter, and ye fade….👌🏻♥️😍💚🌿🍃💦💫
Blight By Edna St. Vincent Millay

دوستانی که از هشتگ میان سیو پست و فالو فراموش نشه 🙏🏻♥️😍💫




#ایران #برگ #سبز #طبیعت #عکاسی #کرج #عکس #موبایلگرافی #اکسپلور

16/04/2022

Acanthus and each odorous bushy shrub
Fenc'd up the verdant wall; each beauteous flower,
Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine,
Rear'd high their flourish'd heads between The First Love of Adam and Eve By John Milton

15/04/2022

It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine…..👌🏻♥️😍🧡🌅💫
Auguries of Innocence By William Blake