ANOTHER POEM BY EDGAR A. GUEST

This poem is called 

"The Call"

by Edgar A. Guest 

1881 to 1959 

I must get out to the woods again, to the whispering tree and the birds a-wing,

Away from the haunts of pale-faced men, to the spaces wide where strength is king;

I must get out where the skies are blue and the air is clean and the rest is sweet,

Out where there's never a task to do or a goal to reach or a foe to meet.

I must get out on the trails once more that wind through shadowy haunts and cool,

Away from the presence of wall and door, and see myself in a crystal pool;

I must get out with the silent things, where neither laughter nor hate is heard,

Where malice never the humblest stings and no one is hurt by a spoken word.

Oh, I've heard the call of the tall white pine, and heard the call of the running brook;

I'm tired of the tasks which each day are mine, I'm weary of reading a printed book;

I want to get out of the din and strife, the clang and clamor of turning wheel,

And walk for a day where life is life, and the joys are true and the pictures real.

Another lovely poem from someone I am rediscovering.  I love his poetry and Gregg got it for me via Kindle.  There was an offer and knowing how much I was enjoying Edgar A. Guest's poetry lately, he downloaded it and gifted it to me.  It was gladly received. 

The above photos were taken in the wide open spaces of the southwest, on a road trip a few years ago.  As we get closer to the barn we can see there is a mural of a lady smiling up at the sky.  How I wish I could have hopped over that fence to explore further, but we would have been trespassing on someone's land.  

I remember taking these photos from the passenger side window as we made our way along, more old photos shared before.  I found them while browsing through folders of past holidays, all this while looking at the snow outside.  It is very cold and I have become a temporary hermit.  I will soon be sharing things around the house, as a dear blogging friend once suggested.  A great idea.

All being well weather-wise, we have more company coming this weekend.  I am kicking myself out the door to enjoy time with friends and will be back on Monday.

Thanks for stopping by and have a great weekend.

A LOVELY POEM

Looking Back
by Edgar A. Guest 
1881 to 1959

I might have been rich if I'd wanted the gold

Instead of the friendships I've made.

I might have had fame if I'd sought for renown

In the hours when I purposely played.

Now I'm standing today on the far side of life,

And I'm just looking backward to see

What I've done with the years and the days that were mine,

And all that has happened to me.

I haven't built much of a fortune to leave

To those who shall carry my name,

And nothing I've done shall entitle me now

To a place on the tablets of fame.

But I've loved the great sky and its spaces of blue;

I've lived with the birds and the trees; I've turned from the splendor of silver and gold
To share in such pleasures as these.

I've given my time to the children who came;

Together we've romped and we've played,

And I wouldn't exchange the glad hours spent

With them for the money that I might have made.

I chose to be known and to be loved by the few,

And was deaf to the plaudits of men;

And I'd make the same choice should the chance

Come to me to live my life over again.

I've lived with my friends and 
I've shared in their joys,

Known sorrow with all of its tears;

I have harvested much from my acres of life,

Though some say I've squandered my years.

For much that is fine has been mine to enjoy,

And I think I have lived to my best,

And I have no regret, as I'm nearing the end,

For the gold that I might have possessed

Edgar A. Guest was born in Birmingham, England, brought to America when he was ten years old, and died in Detroit, Michigan, at the age of 77.  You can read about him here.

(I am also sharing a few old photos from my archives)

Happy Sunday Everyone!