Eugene Field was an American poet of the late 19th century. He wrote many popular, often poignant children’s poems.   His poem “Little Boy Blue” was a favorite of my father’s, who read it to me many times.

Here is his poem with lollipops:


The Sugar-Plum Tree          by Eugene Field  


Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?

‘Tis a marvel of great renown!

It blooms on the shore of the Lollypop sea

In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;

The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet

(As those who have tasted it say)

That good little children have only to eat

Of that fruit to be happy next day.


When you’ve got to the tree, you would have a hard time

To capture the fruit which I sing;

The tree is so tall that no person could climb

To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing!

But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,

And a gingerbread dog prowls below –

And this is the way you contrive to get at

Those sugar-plums tempting you so:


You say but the word to that gingerbread dog

And he barks with such terrible zest

That the chocolate cat is at once all agog,

As her swelling proportions attest.

And the chocolate cat goes cavorting around

From this leafy limb unto that,

And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, to the ground –

Hurrah for that chocolate cat!


There are marshmallows, gumdrops, and peppermint canes,

With stripings of scarlet or gold,

And you carry away of the treasure that rains,

As much as your apron can hold!

So come, little child, cuddle closer to me

In your dainty white nightcap and gown,

And I’ll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree

In the garden of Shut-Eye Town.




<a href=””>Lollipop</a&gt;


Our disastrous presidential administration

Dr. Evil and Trump

In my opinion, it is much worse than I expected.  Trump keeps us in a state of chaotic expectancy.

I generally don’t post about politics, but this situation has me worried every day.



One Tweet Over the Line

These memes are funny, but they are also not funny.  Not with the dictator of North Korea improving his nuclear weapons every month.


russia wish list

I am afraid the Russians are more a threat to our country than they ever were in the 50’s and 60’s.


<a href=””>Disastrous</a&gt;


black heart stone

Here’s a poem by Eunice de Souza:


This poem is for you.
It’s a reprieve.
It says
nothing in your little black heart
can frighten me,
I’ve looked too long
into my own.
Thank you for the gift
of your uncertainties.



painting by Christian Schloe



<a href=””>Reprieve</a&gt;

Impression du Matin

Thames Embankment Edward Seago

painting   “Thames Embankment”  by Edward Seago


Here’s a poem by Oscar Wilde:

Impression du Matin


The Thames nocturne of blue and gold
Changed to a Harmony in grey:
A barge with ochre-coloured hay
Dropt from the wharf: and chill and cold

The yellow fog came creeping down
The bridges, till the houses’ walls
Seemed changed to shadows and St. Paul’s
Loomed like a bubble o’er the town.

Then suddenly arose the clang
Of waking life; the streets were stirred
With country waggons: and a bird
Flew to the glistening roofs and sang.

But one pale woman all alone,
The daylight kissing her wan hair,
Loitered beneath the gas lamps’ flare,
With lips of flame and heart of stone.

<a href=””>Impression</a&gt;

Adrift on the Lake

adrift canoe


Here’s a poem by Wang Wei

Adrift on the Lake

Autumn sky illuminates itself all empty
distances away toward far human realms,

cranes off horizons of sand tracing its
clarity into mountains beyond clouds.

Crystalline waters quiet settling night.
Moonlight leaving idleness everywhere

ablaze, I trust myself to this lone paddle,
this calm on and on, no return in sight.




From Mountain Home: The Wilderness Poetry of Ancient China


<a href=””>Adrift</a&gt;

Radical Hospitality


painting:  Frederick George Cottman – One of the Family

Here’s a poem by Rumi:

Radical Hospitality


This being human is a guest house.

Every morning is a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

[S]he may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.




orange door


<a href=””>Hospitality</a&gt;

<a href=””>Hospitality</a&gt;

final notations



Here’s a poem by Adrienne Rich:


it will not be simple, it will not be long

it will take little time, it will take all your thought


it will take all your heart, it will take all your breath

it will be short, it will not be simple


it will touch through your ribs, it will take all your heart

it will not be long, it will occupy your thought

as a city is occupied, as a bed is occupied

it will take all your flesh, it will not be simple


You are coming into us who cannot withstand you

you are coming into us who never wanted to withstand you

you are taking parts of us into places never planned

you are going far away with pieces of our lives


it will be short, it will take all your breath

it will not be simple, it will become your will





<a href=””>Final</a&gt;