How Did You Die?

Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a resolute heart and cheerful?
Or hide your face from the light of day
With a craven soul and fearful?
Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce,
Or a trouble is what you make it,
And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts,
But only how did you take it?


You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that?
Come up with a smiling face.
It's nothing against you to fall down flat,
But to lie there -- that's a disgrace.
The harder you're thrown, why the higher you bounce;
Be proud of your blackened eye!
It isn't the fact that you're licked that counts,
It's how did you fight --  and why?


And though you be done to the death, what then?
If you battled the best you could,
If you played your part in the world of men,
Why, the Critic will call it good.
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,
And whether he's slow or spry,
It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts,
But only how did you die?


by Edmund Vance Cooke (1866-1932)


Wow! I think I've just discovered a new favourite poet!!! D x

When "Tempest" Seems Too Mild a Word....

There is no earthly pleasure more sublime

Than sitting by the fire, all snug and warm,

Whilst outside, the wind and rain are raging,

Building up into a monstrous storm.

To know that, though the weather's truly awful,

You haven't any reason to go out.

It gives you such a satisfying feeling

That's way beyond compare, without a doubt.

But wait - for now the window-panes are rattling!

The dustbins in the yard are spinning round!

The roof has lost some tiles and is now leaking,

And next door's shed has lifted off the ground!

It seems as though the walls themselves are shaking.

Will they hold out? Oh, surely they won't break!

It's so bad now, I'm cowering in terror,

And fearful for my life, make no mistake!

It serves me right for being so complacent!

I'm not smug now, in fact I'm quite distressed.

The storm is at an end, but so much damage!!!

When I think how much I've lost, I'm quite depressed!

Out With the Old...

Christmastime is over, the New Year has begun.
Pack away the tinsel and the tree.
Everything looks bare, now. We've all had our fun,
But now it's back to work for you and me.

So, it's backs to the grindstone, shoulders to the wheel,
We called the tune - the piper wants his pay!
The bills, when they arrive, will be enough to make you reel,
And things get more expensive, day by day.

It's a wonder that our parents could afford to keep us fed,
Especially when large families were the norm.
Each day a constant battle just to stay out of the red;
To provide shelter, clothe us - make us warm.

I suppose we should be thankful that we have a job at all,
In these mad days of rising unemployment,
And I surmise that when your back's against the wall,
It tends to put a damper on enjoyment.

So let us all be thankful, whilst enduring troubled times.
After all, you know, it could be so much worse.
Heck! I could find it difficult to conjure up some rhymes!
Then how would I have finished off this verse?????

(Can you tell I struggled at the end a bit????)

Happy New Year to all my friends and family,
May 2012 be everything you hoped for!

Keep smiling!!!!!!!

Dawn xxx