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Viewing 15 posts - 766 through 780 (of 1,050 total)
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  • in reply to: Forum Game: The next one posting…. #122528
    Tift
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      After reading the caption on the doggie cartoon my money
      is on a feline coming this way next, claws out sniffing for a
      hound who's marked her spot

      [img]https://i.imgur.com/1oKMOYF.jpg?1[/img]

      in reply to: I am Thankful for : #135753
      Tift
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        I am thankful for having my health

        in reply to: Vocabulary word of the day #143309
        Tift
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          apotropaic

          adjective

          supposedly having the power to avert evil influences or bad luck.

          in reply to: Caption Competition No.4 #168903
          Tift
          Participant

                 

                            [img]https://i.imgur.com/DyqZAHk.jpg?1[/img]

                            Kait says we're up to no good, so I've put her on iggy

            in reply to: Forum Game: 3 words game #127060
            Tift
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                                              flying backhand volley

              [img]https://i.imgur.com/l6WhHYb.jpg?1[/img]

              in reply to: CRY HAVOC ! And let slip the tunes…… #168156
              Tift
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                Parker Millsap     Hades Pleads

                just love the fiddlin'

                https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8QAaoSDdGE

                [img]https://i.imgur.com/rYZKjqJ.jpg?1[/img]

                in reply to: Favourite Pomes #168672
                Tift
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                  I love the small details of life and this is full of them

                  Rupert Brooke  These I Have Loved



                  These I have loved:
                  White plates and cups, clean-gleaming,
                  Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust;
                  Wet roofs, beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust
                  Of friendly bread; and many-tasting food;
                  Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke of wood;
                  And radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers;
                  And flowers themselves, that sway through sunny hours,
                  Dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon;
                  Then, the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon
                  Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss
                  Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is
                  Shining and free; blue-massing clouds; the keen
                  Unpassioned beauty of a great machine;
                  The benison of hot water; furs to touch;
                  The good smell of old clothes; and other such—
                  The comfortable smell of friendly fingers,
                  Hair's fragrance, and the musty reek that lingers
                  About dead leaves and last year's ferns. . . .
                                    Dear names,
                  And thousand other throng to me! Royal flames;
                  Sweet water's dimpling laugh from tap or spring;
                  Holes in the ground; and voices that do sing;
                  Voices in laughter, too; and body's pain,
                  Soon turned to peace; and the deep-panting train;
                  Firm sands; the little dulling edge of foam
                  That browns and dwindles as the wave goes home;
                  And washen stones, gay for an hour; the cold
                  Graveness of iron; moist black earthen mould;
                  Sleep; and high places; footprints in the dew;
                  And oaks; and brown horse-chestnuts, glossy-new;
                  And new-peeled sticks; and shining pools on grass;—
                  All these have been my loves. And these shall pass,
                  Whatever passes not, in the great hour,
                  Nor all my passion, all my prayers, have power
                  To hold them with me through the gate of Death.
                  They'll play deserter, turn with the traitor breath,
                  Break the high bond we made, and sell Love's trust
                  And sacramented covenant to the dust.
                  ——Oh, never a doubt but, somewhere, I shall wake,
                  And give what's left of love again, and make
                  New friends, now strangers. . . .
                              But the best I've known
                  Stays here, and changes, breaks, grows old, is blown
                  About the winds of the world, and fades from brains
                  Of living men, and dies.
                              Nothing remains.

                  O dear my loves, O faithless, once again
                  This one last gift I give: that after men
                  Shall know, and later lovers, far-removed,
                  Praise you, 'All these were lovely'; say, 'He loved.'

                  in reply to: Music Association Game #41906
                  Tift
                  Participant

                    Hollie Cook – Freefalling

                    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kpv8YTHLLt8

                    [img]https://i.imgur.com/mankl29.jpg?1[/img]

                    in reply to: Forum Game: 3 words game #127058
                    Tift
                    Participant

                                                  Porridge For Breakfast

                      [img]https://i.imgur.com/GldHCgy.jpg?1[/img]

                      in reply to: Music. What I’m listening to… #162725
                      Tift
                      Participant

                        [img]https://i.imgur.com/Sijd6q5.jpg?1[/img]  (shameless with you in mind Eff)

                        Things Change

                        https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhwaAN2FSI4

                        [img]https://i.imgur.com/Tdl1tcU.jpg?1[/img]

                        in reply to: I’ll Show You Mine … #168536
                        Tift
                        Participant

                          You wait ages for Wonderwoman to show up
                              and then you get two !

                          [img]https://i.imgur.com/JRSnlty.jpg?1[/img]

                          in reply to: I’ll Show You Mine … #168535
                          Tift
                          Participant

                                                  Naked Thursday  January 14th

                            The handsome  guy in the foreground for those not sure is Jordan

                            [img]https://i.imgur.com/J2DbDH6.jpg?1[/img]

                            below has to be included just for the lady on the right
                            for reasons of nomenclature, loosely speaking …

                            [img]https://i.imgur.com/pqr31Wz.jpg?2[/img]

                            in reply to: Music. Songs that touch you #166290
                            Tift
                            Participant

                                   This always moves me, the feel of it
                                  but more importantly the images it creates

                              [img]https://i.imgur.com/17l0Jyz.jpg?1[/img]


                                    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e58K5dyiVjU

                              in reply to: Music. What song are you listening to? #109621
                              Tift
                              Participant

                                [img]https://i.imgur.com/QPX9ugT.jpg?1[/img]

                                Oklahoma Breakdown

                                https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_-9p0b_WPU

                                in reply to: Favourite Pomes #168665
                                Tift
                                Participant

                                  Elizabeth Barrett's custom was to write alone and not show her work to anyone.
                                  During the two years of her courtship with Robert Browning (1845-46) she wrote
                                  a series of sonnets intended for her future husband's eyes alone.  One day in
                                  early 1847, married and living in Florence, she appeared behind him, held him
                                  by the shoulder to prevent his turning and at the same time pushed a packet of papers
                                  into the pocket of his coat.  She told him to read that, and to tear it up if he did not like it;
                                  and then she fled to her own room.   

                                  Browning said “I dared not reserve to myself the finest sonnets written in any language
                                  since Shakespeare's.”  Which is how her Sonnets From the Portuguese came about.

                                  Sonnet 35

                                  If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
                                  And be all to me? Shall I never miss
                                  Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss
                                  That comes to each in turn, nor count it strange,
                                  When I look up, to drop on a new range
                                  Of walls and floors … another home than this?
                                  Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is
                                  Filled by dead eyes too tender to know change?
                                  That's hardest. If to conquer love, has tried,
                                  To conquer grief, tries more … as all things prove;
                                  For grief indeed is love and grief beside.
                                  Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to love.
                                  Yet love me—wilt thou? Open thine heart wide,
                                  And fold within, the wet wings of thy dove.

                                Viewing 15 posts - 766 through 780 (of 1,050 total)