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The Most Important Things In Life

The Most Important Things in Life

The most important things in life
Are not ‘things,’ most know
It’s the people in our lives
Who make our Hearts grow

Our family of Loved ones
Are the most important of all
They fill our lives with memories
Especially those who are small

The little simple moments
A smile, a hug, or glance
Whether in a photo, or our minds
Makes our Hearts sing and dance

Some friends are like family
They bloom perfectly in our Heart
Whether grown over the years
Or there right from the very start

Love, our greatest possession
It’s who we truly are
Giving and receiving Unconditionally
In life, we will go far

Good health is often taken for granted
Until something in the body goes wrong
Focusing on anything positive
Can bring relief along

Feeling appreciation
Speaking of our gratitude
Being thankful for all things
Is a Blessed attitude

Keeping an open mind
To learning all our days
Growth continues and expands
In hundreds of delightful ways

Shining our Inner-Light
Helping others along their way
Respecting the differences
Letting all have their own say

Tranquillity and Peace
A rested and calm mind
Practising meditation
Our own way, we can find

Faith, an individual thing
Not just for those religious
Simple hope, or a belief
That life is truly glorious

Inspiration lifts our Spirit
Helps us reach our goal
Whether given or received
It delights our eternal Soul

People are important
And the memories we build
Good health for a vital life
Inspiration, to be fulfilled

Appreciating and respecting
All of life, everywhere
Having faith in the Peace
And happiness to share

These are life’s treasures
And money has no part
But the greatest of them all
Is the Love in everyone’s Heart!

Our Garden of Forever

Our Garden of Forever Poem by Hannah Morales Amid the blooms your hand finds mine,A bond eternal, pure and divine.Through gentle days and trials deepOur vows are roots that never sleep. Like butterflies in morning air,Our love takes flight beyond despair,No fleeting…

The Language

The Language by Robert Creeley Locate Ilove you some-where in teeth and eyes, bite it but take care not to hurt, you want so much so little. Words say everything. Ilove youagain, then what is emptiness for. To fill, fill.I heard words and words full of holes aching….

Im Not Really 60

Im Not Really 60 by Ms M J Hill That’s not my age; it’s just not true. My heart is young; the time just flew. I’m staring at this strange old face, And someone else is in my place! My body’s not in disrepair. I’ve not much grey in my brown hair. I sometimes feel a…

The Ballad Of Rum

The Ballad Of Rum by Peter R Wolveridge A dog wandered into our garden one day,A friendly old mutt, didn’t look like a stray.We never discovered whence he had come,But we brushed him and fed him and the kids called him Rum. Now as family members, even dogs must work…

Ode Written On The First Of January

Ode Written On The First Of January by Robert Southey Come melancholy Moralizer—come!Gather with me the dark and wintry wreath; With me engarland now The SEPULCHRE OF TIME! Come Moralizer to the funeral song!I pour the dirge of the Departed Days, For well the funeral…

A Soldier

A Soldier Poem by Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken Poem by Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stoodAnd looked down one as far as I couldTo where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair,And having…

Why Do I Love You Sir?

In “Why Do I Love You Sir,” Emily Dickinson explores love’s irrational nature. She compares love to natural phenomena like the wind and lightning, emphasizing that true affection does not require explanation. The poem suggests that love exists beyond reason, embraced th…

Remembrance

Maya Angelou’s “Remembrance Poem” captures the profound longing and intimate connection between lovers. The poem evokes the warmth of shared moments, emphasizing physical touch and emotional resonance. Through vivid imagery, it conveys the speaker’s yearning for the lin…

On The Pulse Of Morning

Maya Angelou’s “On The Pulse Of Morning” calls for unity and awakening amidst historical struggles. Nature—symbolized by the rock, river, and tree—invites humanity to confront the past, embrace peace, and strive for new beginnings. It emphasizes courage, hope, and t…

Let Peace Prevail In This World

Let Peace Prevail In This World

Let Peace Prevail In This World by Ravi Sathasivam

When you look for peace
then the peace lies within you
When you search for peace
then it is not hard to find
When you want to keep peace alive
then you allow white doves to fly over you
When you make peace with others
then the whole world live in your heart
When you let peace be in the world
then you live in wonderful world
When you allow peace flow around the world
then your hateness will go and love will flow
When you open the door for peace
then peace welcome to your lives.
Let the peace prevail in our wonderful world

Poetic Flows Podcast emeraldbookclub.org
Carpe Diem

Carpe Diem

Meaning

"Carpe diem" is a Latin phrase meaning "seize the day" or "pluck the day". It encourages people to make the most of the present moment without dwelling on the future. The expression originates from the Roman poet Horace, who used it in his Odes as part of a longer injunction about enjoying life now because the future is uncertain

In Horace, the phrase is part of the longer carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero, which is often translated as "Seize the day, put very little trust in tomorrow (the future)". The ode says that the future is unforeseen and that one should not leave to chance future happenings, but rather one should do all one can today to make one's own future better. This phrase is usually understood against Horace's Epicurean background

Origin and History

The phrase comes from the Roman poet Horace's Odes, published in 23 BCE. The original saying is "carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero," which translates to "pluck the day, trusting as little as possible in the next one"

Ask not ('tis forbidden knowledge), what our destined term of years,
Mine and yours; nor scan the tables of your Babylonish seers.
Better far to bear the future, my Leuconoe, like the past,
Whether Jove has many winters yet to give, or this our last;
This, that makes the Tyrrhene billows spend their strength against the shore.
Strain your wine and prove your wisdom; life is short; should hope be more?
In the moment of our talking, envious time has ebb'd away.
Seize the present; trust tomorrow e'en as little as you may. Wikipedia

✨📚 Vocabulary Tuesdays at Emerald Book Club 📚✨

Every Tuesday, we explore the wonderful world of words, language, and expression! 🌍📝

💡 What’s in store:
🔤 Discover new and exciting vocabulary & phrases
🎲 Play creative word games and brain teasers
⚔️ Compete in friendly vocabulary battles
🌎 Explore words from different languages and cultures

Whether you’re a wordsmith, a language lover, or simply curious to expand your mind, Vocabulary Tuesdays is the place to learn, laugh, and connect—with words and people alike. 💬✨

Join us and make your Tuesdays word-tastic! 💚

Rain by Edward Thomas

Rain by Edward Thomas

Rain By Edward Thomas

Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain

On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me

Remembering again that I shall die

And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks

For washing me cleaner than I have been

Since I was born into this solitude.

Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:

But here I pray that none whom once I loved

Is dying tonight or lying still awake

Solitary, listening to the rain,

Either in pain or thus in sympathy

Helpless among the living and the dead,

Like a cold water among broken reeds,

Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,

Like me who have no love which this wild rain

Has not dissolved except the love of death,

The Darkling Thrush

The Darkling Thrush

The Darkling Thrush

By Thomas Hardy

I leant upon a coppice gate

      When Frost was spectre-grey,

And Winter's dregs made desolate

      The weakening eye of day.

The tangled bine-stems scored the sky

      Like strings of broken lyres,

And all mankind that haunted nigh

      Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be

      The Century's corpse outleant,

His crypt the cloudy canopy,

      The wind his death-lament.

The ancient pulse of germ and birth

      Was shrunken hard and dry,

And every spirit upon earth

      Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among

      The bleak twigs overhead

In a full-hearted evensong

      Of joy illimited;

An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,

      In blast-beruffled plume,

Had chosen thus to fling his soul

      Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings

      Of such ecstatic sound

Was written on terrestrial things

      Afar or nigh around,

That I could think there trembled through

      His happy good-night air

Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew

      And I was unaware.

Autumn by John Keats Poem

Autumn by John Keats Poem

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

   Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

   With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;

To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,

   And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

      To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

   With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

      For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?

   Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,

   Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;

Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,

   Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook

      Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:

And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep

   Steady thy laden head across a brook;

   Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,

      Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?

   Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—

While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

   And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;

Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn

   Among the river sallows, borne aloft

      Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;

And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;

   Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft

   The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;

      And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
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