[SenorJalapeno]

Sheesh! I was about to get ready for a meal and woman falls asleep. Tayba ji, I am not entirely convinced she is sleeping. Perhaps we may need to get a box of donuts and coffee and stakeout?

[SenorJalapeno]

Meal? Where?

[SenorJalapeno]

Here is another that warms my soul: It's Thomas Gray's 'Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard.' But, I'm sure you already know this.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds:

Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,
Molest her ancient solitary reign.

Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,
The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,
The ***'s shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.

For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or busy housewife ply her evening care:
No children run to lisp their sire's return,
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share,

Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;
How jocund did they drive their team afield!
How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!

Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the Poor.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Awaits alike th' inevitable hour:-
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

Nor you, ye Proud, impute to these the fault
If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise,
Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.

Can storied urn or animated bust
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust,
Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death?

Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd,
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre:

But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll;
Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.

Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless ***
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.

Th' applause of list'ning senates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,
And read their history in a nation's eyes,

Their lot forbad: nor circumscribed alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined;
Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,

The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,
Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride
With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;
Along the cool sequester'd vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.

Yet e'en thes

[SenorJalapeno]

Yum!

Apricots?

[SenorJalapeno]

Its all good! But, you both have assorted metal objects that have come loose in your pretty heads. Oh, to be young, or an 'aunty hug' giver!

[SenorJalapeno]

Here is one that is growing on me. It's by Rumi (Jalaladdin Mohammad Balkhi), translated by Fereydoun Kia.

Do You Love Me?

A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more
than you love me?

The beloved replied,
I have died to myself
and I live for you.

I’ve disappeared from myself
and my attributes.
I am present only for you.

I have forgotten all my learning,
but from knowing you
I have become a scholar.

I have lost all my strength,
but from your power
I am able.

If I love myself
I love you.
If I love you
I love myself.

[SenorJalapeno]

Sheesh! I cannot keep up with you two. What are you both on? Is the room spinning again?

[SenorJalapeno]

I find that the person who feels most unimportant to self and to others is often the most important person to me. Helps me thank God for what I have, trust Him for what I don't, and share with others from what I was given.

Same question.

[SenorJalapeno]

Travel

[SenorJalapeno]

Coffee

[SenorJalapeno]

Swings as in Old Vehicle Rubber Tire Swings secured by a single rope to a branch…you swing and swing and then get down and try to walk straight…

[SenorJalapeno]

Get me into that kitchen, person above me, and I promise to say that about you, loud and long, till your ears bleed.

[SenorJalapeno]

Person above me is right. But, then again, she is almost always (Except when she refuses to get me to a certain woman's dining table).

[SenorJalapeno]

Aww! They were lying (I was not, but lets not get hung up on that issue Lmao).

[SenorJalapeno]

Well, I can give no Aunty Hug, but judging by my age, perhaps a Geriatric Hug? It's for free but if my false teeth fall off when I smile, you have to please help me pick them up. I can't see well and my back won't let me bend.

[SenorJalapeno]

Lol! Don't tell me you already saw one.

[SenorJalapeno]

You and your sparring partner. Both of you need help, or erm a Aunty hug! Lmao.

[SenorJalapeno]

Nessa ji, if I may?

Boo ji, those lines are from a Mary J Blige song called As. I took the liberty of looking for it in YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iA5412cXLE (I am sorry if that was presumptuous of me).

[SenorJalapeno]

I knew what you meant person above me, and am grateful. (Person above me has such kindness that urges her to see in another, an extraordinary quality, when in fact, there is but barely an ordinary reality). Gracias mi amiga hermosa.

[SenorJalapeno]

Kavita ji! Kavita ji! Faire mayden lokynge for a Khan! I am home. It was a one day -leave sleepy-eyed late at night arrive droopy-eyed late next afternoon- trip that involved 1 Orange Juice, 1 Philly Cheese Steak Meal, 1 In-flight bag of Peanuts, 2 Baggage Check-ins, 2 Baggage Claims, 2 Company Car Rides, 3 Cab Rides, 1 Blueberry Pancake Breakfast with Grapefruit Juice, 1 Grilled Chicken Caesar Salad, 1 Pad-Thai Noodle Dinner, 1 Brief Argument with Airport Security, 1 Brief Business Meeting, 1 Short Nap In-Flight, 1 Meaningless Conversation with a Boring Bloke, Many Cappuccinos, Espressos, Bottles of Water and Bathroom Trips. Oh, and 1 Desperate Wish that I could spontaneously cause my eye-ball to pop out of its socket and accompany the gorgeous flight attendant into the Galley…for a lingering look!

Kavita ji, Kavita ji, I doth hope that mine reminiscence doth make thee satisfyed.

[Author]

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