My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.
I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.
- Emily Dickinson To die - takes only just a little while - They say it doesn't hurt - It's only fainter - by degrees - And then -…
-John Donne Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost…
- Dylan Thomas Why east wind chills and south wind cools Shall not be known till windwell dries And west's no longer drowned In winds that…