January 11, 2019

The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me And I cannot, cannot go.

—Emily Bronte

January 4, 2019

Little January Tapped at my door today. And said, “Put on your winter wraps, And come outdoors to play.

—Winifred C. Marshall

December 28, 2018

So much of any year is flammable, Lists of vegetables, partial poems Orange swirling flame of days, So little is a stone.

—Naomi Shihab Nye

December 21, 2018

I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

December 14, 2018

The coasting crowd upon the hill With some new spirit seems to thrill; And all the temple bells achime. Ring out the glee of Christmas time.

—Paul Laurence Dunbar

December 7, 2018

who found you in the green forest and were you very sorry to come away? see i will comfort you because you smell so sweetly.

—e.e. cummings

November 30, 2018

A film of mist clings to the storm windows As the thunder gets pocketed and carried away In the rain’s dark overcoat. A good reading night.

—Wayne Miller

November 23, 2018

We lie on the cold sand and it embraces us, this beach where locals never go in summer and boast of their absence.

—Marge Piercy

November 16, 2018

But blessings are like friends, I hold, Who love and labor near us. We ought to raise our notes of praise While living hearts can hear us.

—Ella Wheeler Wilcox

November 9, 2018

Citizens all, they move their hands over the humble, battered body of the nation, while their fingers make full utterance: I want, I want.

—Martha Hollander

November 2, 2018

I am a firm believer in the people. If given the truth, they can be depended upon to meet any national crisis. The great point is to bring them the real facts, and beer.

—Abraham Lincoln

October 26, 2018

Ninety feet between home plate and first base may be the closest man has ever come to perfection.

—Red Smith

October 19, 2018

O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild, Should waste them all.

—Robert Frost

October 12, 2018

The sweet calm sunshine of October, now Warms the low spot; upon its grassy mold The purple oak-leaf falls; the birchen bough Drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.

—William Cullen Bryant

October 5, 2018

Child-crafted clouds, all sheen and fleece and curlicues, As a girl, with her tongue in her teeth, would have made them, The point of her crayon squashed against the page.

—Andrew Klavan

September 28, 2018

By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer’s best of weather And autumn’s best of cheer.

—Helen Hunt Jackson

September 21, 2018

Before us the wide ocean runs to meet the limpid sky Our hearts are full of poignant life, and care has fled afar As sweeps the white-winged fishing fleet across the harbor bar.

—Lucy Maud Montgomery

September 14, 2018

Although it is a cold evening, Down by one of the fishhouses An old man sits netting, His net, in the gloaming almost invisible.

—Elizabeth Bishop

September 7, 2018

The breezes taste Of apple peel. The air is full Of smells to feel — Ripe fruit, old footballs, Burning brush, New books, erasers, Chalk, and such.

—John Updike

August 31, 2018

 It is a real chill out, The genuine thing. I am not deceived, I do not think it is still summer Because sun stays and birds continue to sing.

—Gwendolyn Brooks