by Edgar Fawcett (1847-1904)
How falls it, oriole, thou hast come to fly
In tropic splendor through our Northern sky?
At some glad moment was it nature’s choice
To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?
Or did some orange tulip, flaked with black,
In some forgotten garden, ages back,
Yearning toward Heaven until its wish was heard,
Desire unspeakably to be a bird?
Edgar Fawcett was a novelist and a poet. He wrote several works we would call science fiction today, though his name for the genre was “realistic romance”.
Please to remember that Pootie Diaries post twice a day!
The regular Pootie Diaries post daily at 1:45 pm Eastern (on Sundays at 3 pm Eastern)
and the evening Open Thread Pootie Diaries post at 10pm Eastern
Please to show ‘em both some lubs!
PWBPeeps is a group that posts a daily diary and nightly open thread for animal lovers. We share photos, seek & give advice about pet health and behavior issues, support each other in times of sadness and stress, celebrate together when times are good, and on most days have an inordinate amount of fun.
You are welcome to join us!
Here are few not-too-onerous PWB rules
- Do not “Troll” the Pootie Peeps Diaries. If you don’t like animal diaries, there’s no need to tell us about it. Just go find some other diary more to your liking.
- Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly.
- If you would like a pic from the comment threads, please ask the poster. He/she may have a copyright to those pics. Many thanks!
- There are some pics we never post: snakes, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated.
- If you’re not sure about an issue...please ask. Someone is always glad to help.
This is an open thread.