Posts Tagged ‘Love’

The Last Rose

August 30, 2012

THE last rose — and the loveliest. All alone waiting for the time to come when she, too, will wither and fade as have all her other sisters. Sad, to watch this and sadder to wonder how the poor little rose feels. But she’s not going away forever and ever. Just to take a nice long Winter nap so that she may waken in the Spring loveliest and more enticing than ever.

And poor l’il Dan watches and tried all his mischievous tricks to see if he cannot keep her here. He should know better, for he as watched the roses bloom and fade for centuries. But it’s ever the same story. He wants his very own Summer to last always. And who knows but that it does? For Love knows no season, and even though the roses do fade, Love always stays to bring happiness into an otherwise drear, drab world.

Amarillo Globe (Amarillo, Texas) Sep 24, 1928

Nightfall on the Farm

June 9, 2012

Image from MoMA


Upon the porch at even
We two together stood,
And listened to the tinkle
Of sheep-bells in the wood.
The locust trees bent o’er us,
White blossoms dropping down,
And, fringed with flowers, before us
The path lay bare and brown.

We heard the sheep-bells music
Far off and dreamy grow;
We saw the white flowers sprinkle
The lawn like flecks of snow;
The roses drew back shyly
Into the silent dark,
But though their haunts were shaded
Their perfume we could mark.

Up in a locust’s branches
A little bird said “cheep” —
‘Twas all that broke the silence
The whole world seemed asleep.
“Good night,” she said. “I love you!”
I said. She did not speak,
But swift she leaned toward me
With tears upon her cheek.

— Philip L. Barker, in Chicago Record.

Freeborn County Standard (Albert Lea, Minnesota) Jun 10, 1896


May 20, 2012

Image from the National Archives


When I was but a wee, shy boy,
My mother’s pride, my father’s joy,
My hands and mouth had full employ
When blackberries were ripe.
And oft my mammy she would squeeze
The thorns from out my arms and knees,
And my good dad, to give me ease,
Laid by his favorite pipe.
And even since I’ve become a man,
And dressed on quite a different plan,
I’ve still gone carrying the can,
When blackberries grew sweet.
Yes, trampling through the bramble brakes,
I’d court the keenest pains and aches
For two or three fair colleens’ sakes —
Whose names I’ll not repeat —
Till Norah of the amber hair,
Who’d been my partner here and there,
Around, about and everywhere,
As blackberries came in —
When I just tried, with too much haste,
The richer, rarer fruit to taste
That on her lips was going to waste,
She tosses up her chin,
And marches by me night and morn,
Her gray eyes only glancing scorn,
Regardless of the rankling thorn
She’s rooted in my heart.
Yet maybe — though I much misdoubt —
Her eyes that flash, her lips that flout,
Will yet turn kind, and conjure out
That thorn of cruel smart.

— London Sketch.

Nevada State Journal (Reno, Nevada) May 23, 1896

Mistletoe Kisses

December 2, 2011

Sent a Box of Mistletoe to Recall a First Kiss

“SIGN on the dotted line, lady.”

“But are you sure this is for me?”

“It says, ‘Miss Martha Brent, 220 Cassland;’ ain’t that you? There’s no mistake; its yours all right.”

Miss Brent drew the box into the house and opened it with trembling hands. And there stood a box filled with mistletoe, lovely white berries like pearls.

“What in the world!” ejaculated Miss Brent. “Mistletoe for an old maid! It must be a joke!”

But she took it out and decorated her tiny home.

That night her door bell rang. When she went to the door there stood a prosperous, middle-aged man.

His hair was beginning to turn gray and he had a vaguely familiar look.

“Miss Martha,” he said, “thirty years ago tonight we were attending a party at Mary Holland’s. I kissed you under the mistletoe and you boxed my ears soundly. I said, ‘I thought girls liked to be kissed.’ You replied, ‘Not by a good-for-nothing Fitzgerald.’

“I’m no longer good-for-nothing. May I try again, Martha?”

— Jane Roth.
(c. 1927. Western Newspaper Union.)

The Deming Headlight (Deming, New Mexico) Dec 16, 1927

Appleton Post Crescent (Appleton, Wisconsin) Dec 2, 1921