Quotes about sill, page 6
Extremes
I
A little boy once played so loud
That the Thunder, up in a thunder-cloud,
Said, 'Since I can't be heard, why, then
I'll never, never thunder again!'
II
And a little girl once kept so still
That she heard a fly on the window-sill
Whisper and say to a lady-bird,--
'She's the stilliest child I ever heard!'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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It’s An Error Based Quest
A sun ore with no golden mean
Deictic fingertips pointing at wh-s
Forlorn as answers are dying of clarity
All we were left with were
Those windows whose sight was solely made of glass
And a lady with a bunch of beheaded tulips
Torn taken from this garden of Celan’s
Who no longer leans on a window sill
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Death is a door
Death is only an old door
Set in a garden wall;
On gentle hinges it gives, at dusk
When the thrushes call.
Along the linted are green leaves,
Beyond the light lies still;
Very willing and weary feet
Go over that sill.
There is nothing to trouble any heart;
Nothing to hurt at all.
Death is only a quiet door
In an old wall
poem by Katie Evans
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I Am Not Alone....
since i do not have
a sense of direction
i just bend a little
to accommodate my
own shallow fears.
i bend on a window sill.
put my hand on my chin.
and then to every person
who passes this road
i take a closer look
trying to figure out
what suffering has he
comparing it to mine
and then comforting myself
that i am not alone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Judge is like the Owl
699
The Judge is like the Owl—
I've heard my Father tell—
And Owls do build in Oaks—
So here's an Amber Sill—
That slanted in my Path—
When going to the Barn—
And if it serve You for a House—
Itself is not in vain—
About the price—'tis small—
I only ask a Tune
At Midnight—Let the Owl select
His favorite Refrain.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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A bunch of lilac and a storm of hail
A bunch of lilac and a storm of hail
On the same afternoon! Indeed I know
Here in the South it always happens so,
That lilac is companioned by the gale.
I took some hailstones from the window sill
And swallowed them in a communion feast.
Their transitory joy is mine at least,
The lilac's loveliness escapes me still.
Mine are the storms of spring, but not the sweets.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Night And peace
NIGHT in the woods,—night:
Peace, peace on the plain.
The last red sunset beam
Belts the tall beech with gold;
The quiet kine are in the fold,
And stilly flows the stream.
Soon shall we see the stars again,
For one more day down to its rest has lain,
And all its cares have taken flight,
And all its doubt and pain.
Night in the woods,—night:
Peace, peace on the plain.
poem by Edward Rowland Sill
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Fried Chicken Grease
How their daddies dragged them through the mud,
To leave momma alone to talk to potted plants...
On an urban window sill to nourish,
Is a depiction of life...
Some say represents events,
That qualifies good theater.
And I say,
Daddy didn't end up in jail...
Because the superman suit he wore,
Just happened to have been sent...
To the local cleaners,
To remove fried chicken grease.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tea Plucking Girl
While morning sunbeam
Evaporated my dreams
Journey through green
Tea gardens and serene scene
A cup of green tea should be a rejoinder
Romantic morning reminder
I kissed fervently hot
Little tea plucking girl with her sun burnt face
Appeared in window sill
Looking at my steam struck eyes
“Dear poet
Wish you were not kissing on my blood and sweat”
(Copyright reserved by the author)
poem by Abhinav Baruah
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Monition
A faint wind, blowing from World's End,
Made strange the city street.
A strange sound mingled in the fall
Of the familiar feet.
Something unseen whirled with the leaves
To tap on door and sill.
Something unknown went whispering by
Even when the wind was still.
And men looked up with startled eyes
And hurried on their way,
As if they had been called, and told
How brief their day.
poem by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
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