Archives For #FelinaSilver


As You Like It, ACT II
SCENE I. The Forest of Arden.
Asyoulikeit Act2Scene1
Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three Lords, like foresters

DUKE SENIOR
Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The seasons’ difference, as the icy fang
And churlish chiding of the winter’s wind,
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say
‘This is no flattery: these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.’
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life exempt from public haunt
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones and good in every thing.
I would not change it.

AMIENS
Happy is your grace,
That can translate the stubbornness of fortune
Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

DUKE SENIOR
Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this desert city,
Should in their own confines with forked heads
Have their round haunches gored.

First Lord
Indeed, my lord,
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish’d you.
To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself
Did steal behind him as he lay along
Under an oak whose antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood:
To the which place a poor sequester’d stag,
That from the hunter’s aim had ta’en a hurt,
Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heaved forth such groans
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting, and the big round tears
Coursed one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

DUKE SENIOR
But what said Jaques?
Did he not moralize this spectacle?

First Lord
O, yes, into a thousand similes.
First, for his weeping into the needless stream;
‘Poor deer,’ quoth he, ‘thou makest a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
To that which had too much:’ then, being there alone,
Left and abandon’d of his velvet friends,
”Tis right:’ quoth he; ‘thus misery doth part
The flux of company:’ anon a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him
And never stays to greet him; ‘Ay’ quoth Jaques,
‘Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
‘Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?’
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we
Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what’s worse,
To fright the animals and to kill them up
In their assign’d and native dwelling-place.

DUKE SENIOR
And did you leave him in this contemplation?

Second Lord
We did, my lord, weeping and commenting
Upon the sobbing deer.

DUKE SENIOR
Show me the place:
I love to cope him in these sullen fits,
For then he’s full of matter.

First Lord
I’ll bring you to him straight.

Exeunt

SCENE II. A room in the palace.

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords
DUKE FREDERICK
Can it be possible that no man saw them?
It cannot be: some villains of my court
Are of consent and sufferance in this.

First Lord
I cannot hear of any that did see her.
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Saw her abed, and in the morning early
They found the bed untreasured of their mistress.

Second Lord
My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft
Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
Hisperia, the princess’ gentlewoman,
Confesses that she secretly o’erheard
Your daughter and her cousin much commend
The parts and graces of the wrestler
That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles;
And she believes, wherever they are gone,
That youth is surely in their company.

DUKE FREDERICK
Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither;
If he be absent, bring his brother to me;
I’ll make him find him: do this suddenly,
And let not search and inquisition quail
To bring again these foolish runaways.

Exeunt

SCENE III. Before OLIVER’S house.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting
ORLANDO
Who’s there?

ADAM
What, my young master? O, my gentle master!
O my sweet master! O you memory
Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here?
Why are you virtuous? why do people love you?
And wherefore are you gentle, strong and valiant?
Why would you be so fond to overcome
The bonny priser of the humorous duke?
Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces serve them but as enemies?
No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master,
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
O, what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it!

ORLANDO
Why, what’s the matter?

ADAM
O unhappy youth!
Come not within these doors; within this roof
The enemy of all your graces lives:
Your brother–no, no brother; yet the son–
Yet not the son, I will not call him son
Of him I was about to call his father–
Hath heard your praises, and this night he means
To burn the lodging where you use to lie
And you within it: if he fail of that,
He will have other means to cut you off.
I overheard him and his practises.
This is no place; this house is but a butchery:
Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

ORLANDO
Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?

ADAM
No matter whither, so you come not here.

ORLANDO
What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?
Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce
A thievish living on the common road?
This I must do, or know not what to do:
Yet this I will not do, do how I can;
I rather will subject me to the malice
Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.

ADAM
But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I saved under your father,
Which I did store to be my foster-nurse
When service should in my old limbs lie lame
And unregarded age in corners thrown:
Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
And all this I give you. Let me be your servant:
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood,
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;
I’ll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

ORLANDO
O good old man, how well in thee appears
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat but for promotion,
And having that, do choke their service up
Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree,
That cannot so much as a blossom yield
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry
But come thy ways; well go along together,
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
We’ll light upon some settled low content.

ADAM
Master, go on, and I will follow thee,
To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.
From seventeen years till now almost fourscore
Here lived I, but now live here no more.
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;
But at fourscore it is too late a week:
Yet fortune cannot recompense me better
Than to die well and not my master’s debtor.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden.

Enter ROSALIND for Ganymede, CELIA for Aliena, and TOUCHSTONE
ROSALIND
O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits!

TOUCHSTONE
I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.

ROSALIND
I could find in my heart to disgrace my man’s
apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort
the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show
itself courageous to petticoat: therefore courage,
good Aliena!

CELIA
I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further.

TOUCHSTONE
For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear
you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you,
for I think you have no money in your purse.

ROSALIND
Well, this is the forest of Arden.

TOUCHSTONE
Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was
at home, I was in a better place: but travellers
must be content.

ROSALIND
Ay, be so, good Touchstone.

Enter CORIN and SILVIUS

Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in
solemn talk.

CORIN
That is the way to make her scorn you still.

SILVIUS
O Corin, that thou knew’st how I do love her!

CORIN
I partly guess; for I have loved ere now.

SILVIUS
No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess,
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover
As ever sigh’d upon a midnight pillow:
But if thy love were ever like to mine–
As sure I think did never man love so–
How many actions most ridiculous
Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

CORIN
Into a thousand that I have forgotten.

SILVIUS
O, thou didst then ne’er love so heartily!
If thou remember’st not the slightest folly
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not loved:
Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress’ praise,
Thou hast not loved:
Or if thou hast not broke from company
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not loved.
O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!

Exit

ROSALIND
Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound,
I have by hard adventure found mine own.

TOUCHSTONE
And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke
my sword upon a stone and bid him take that for
coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the
kissing of her batlet and the cow’s dugs that her
pretty chopt hands had milked; and I remember the
wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took
two cods and, giving her them again, said with
weeping tears ‘Wear these for my sake.’ We that are
true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is
mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

ROSALIND
Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of.

TOUCHSTONE
Nay, I shall ne’er be ware of mine own wit till I
break my shins against it.

ROSALIND
Jove, Jove! this shepherd’s passion
Is much upon my fashion.

TOUCHSTONE
And mine; but it grows something stale with me.

CELIA
I pray you, one of you question yond man
If he for gold will give us any food:
I faint almost to death.

TOUCHSTONE
Holla, you clown!

ROSALIND
Peace, fool: he’s not thy kinsman.

CORIN
Who calls?

TOUCHSTONE
Your betters, sir.

CORIN
Else are they very wretched.

ROSALIND
Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend.

CORIN
And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.

ROSALIND
I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold
Can in this desert place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed:
Here’s a young maid with travel much oppress’d
And faints for succor.

CORIN
Fair sir, I pity her
And wish, for her sake more than for mine own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her;
But I am shepherd to another man
And do not shear the fleeces that I graze:
My master is of churlish disposition
And little recks to find the way to heaven
By doing deeds of hospitality:
Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed
Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now,
By reason of his absence, there is nothing
That you will feed on; but what is, come see.
And in my voice most welcome shall you be.

ROSALIND
What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?

CORIN
That young swain that you saw here but erewhile,
That little cares for buying any thing.

ROSALIND
I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,
Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock,
And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

CELIA
And we will mend thy wages. I like this place.
And willingly could waste my time in it.

CORIN
Assuredly the thing is to be sold:
Go with me: if you like upon report
The soil, the profit and this kind of life,
I will your very faithful feeder be
And buy it with your gold right suddenly.

Exeunt

SCENE V. The Forest.

Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others
SONG.

AMIENS
Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird’s throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

JAQUES
More, more, I prithee, more.

AMIENS
It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.

JAQUES
I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck
melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs.
More, I prithee, more.

AMIENS
My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you.

JAQUES
I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to
sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you ’em stanzos?

AMIENS
What you will, Monsieur Jaques.

JAQUES
Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me
nothing. Will you sing?

AMIENS
More at your request than to please myself.

JAQUES
Well then, if ever I thank any man, I’ll thank you;
but that they call compliment is like the encounter
of two dog-apes, and when a man thanks me heartily,
methinks I have given him a penny and he renders me
the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will
not, hold your tongues.

AMIENS
Well, I’ll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the
duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all
this day to look you.

JAQUES
And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is
too disputable for my company: I think of as many
matters as he, but I give heaven thanks and make no
boast of them. Come, warble, come.
SONG.
Who doth ambition shun

All together here

And loves to live i’ the sun,
Seeking the food he eats
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

JAQUES
I’ll give you a verse to this note that I made
yesterday in despite of my invention.

AMIENS
And I’ll sing it.

JAQUES
Thus it goes:–
If it do come to pass
That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease,
A stubborn will to please,
Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame:
Here shall he see
Gross fools as he,
An if he will come to me.

AMIENS
What’s that ‘ducdame’?

JAQUES
‘Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a
circle. I’ll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I’ll
rail against all the first-born of Egypt.

AMIENS
And I’ll go seek the duke: his banquet is prepared.

Exeunt severally

SCENE VI. The forest.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM
ADAM
Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for food!
Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell,
kind master.

ORLANDO
Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live
a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little.
If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, I
will either be food for it or bring it for food to
thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers.
For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile at
the arm’s end: I will here be with thee presently;
and if I bring thee not something to eat, I will
give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I
come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said!
thou lookest cheerly, and I’ll be with thee quickly.
Yet thou liest in the bleak air: come, I will bear
thee to some shelter; and thou shalt not die for
lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this
desert. Cheerly, good Adam!

Exeunt

SCENE VII. The forest.

A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and Lords like outlaws
DUKE SENIOR
I think he be transform’d into a beast;
For I can no where find him like a man.

First Lord
My lord, he is but even now gone hence:
Here was he merry, hearing of a song.

DUKE SENIOR
If he, compact of jars, grow musical,
We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.
Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him.

Enter JAQUES

First Lord
He saves my labour by his own approach.

DUKE SENIOR
Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this,
That your poor friends must woo your company?
What, you look merrily!

JAQUES
A fool, a fool! I met a fool i’ the forest,
A motley fool; a miserable world!
As I do live by food, I met a fool
Who laid him down and bask’d him in the sun,
And rail’d on Lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms and yet a motley fool.
‘Good morrow, fool,’ quoth I. ‘No, sir,’ quoth he,
‘Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune:’
And then he drew a dial from his poke,
And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely, ‘It is ten o’clock:
Thus we may see,’ quoth he, ‘how the world wags:
‘Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,
And after one hour more ’twill be eleven;
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot;
And thereby hangs a tale.’ When I did hear
The motley fool thus moral on the time,
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
That fools should be so deep-contemplative,
And I did laugh sans intermission
An hour by his dial. O noble fool!
A worthy fool! Motley’s the only wear.

DUKE SENIOR
What fool is this?

JAQUES
O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier,
And says, if ladies be but young and fair,
They have the gift to know it: and in his brain,
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit
After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm’d
With observation, the which he vents
In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!
I am ambitious for a motley coat.

DUKE SENIOR
Thou shalt have one.

JAQUES
It is my only suit;
Provided that you weed your better judgments
Of all opinion that grows rank in them
That I am wise. I must have liberty
Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I please; for so fools have;
And they that are most galled with my folly,
They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so?
The ‘why’ is plain as way to parish church:
He that a fool doth very wisely hit
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not,
The wise man’s folly is anatomized
Even by the squandering glances of the fool.
Invest me in my motley; give me leave
To speak my mind, and I will through and through
Cleanse the foul body of the infected world,
If they will patiently receive my medicine.

DUKE SENIOR
Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do.

JAQUES
What, for a counter, would I do but good?

DUKE SENIOR
Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin:
For thou thyself hast been a libertine,
As sensual as the brutish sting itself;
And all the embossed sores and headed evils,
That thou with licence of free foot hast caught,
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.

JAQUES
Why, who cries out on pride,
That can therein tax any private party?
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,
Till that the weary very means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I say the city-woman bears
The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?
Who can come in and say that I mean her,
When such a one as she such is her neighbour?
Or what is he of basest function
That says his bravery is not of my cost,
Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits
His folly to the mettle of my speech?
There then; how then? what then? Let me see wherein
My tongue hath wrong’d him: if it do him right,
Then he hath wrong’d himself; if he be free,
Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies,
Unclaim’d of any man. But who comes here?

Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn

ORLANDO
Forbear, and eat no more.

JAQUES
Why, I have eat none yet.

ORLANDO
Nor shalt not, till necessity be served.

JAQUES
Of what kind should this cock come of?

DUKE SENIOR
Art thou thus bolden’d, man, by thy distress,
Or else a rude despiser of good manners,
That in civility thou seem’st so empty?

ORLANDO
You touch’d my vein at first: the thorny point
Of bare distress hath ta’en from me the show
Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred
And know some nurture. But forbear, I say:
He dies that touches any of this fruit
Till I and my affairs are answered.

JAQUES
An you will not be answered with reason, I must die.

DUKE SENIOR
What would you have? Your gentleness shall force
More than your force move us to gentleness.

ORLANDO
I almost die for food; and let me have it.

DUKE SENIOR
Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.

ORLANDO
Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you:
I thought that all things had been savage here;
And therefore put I on the countenance
Of stern commandment. But whate’er you are
That in this desert inaccessible,
Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time
If ever you have look’d on better days,
If ever been where bells have knoll’d to church,
If ever sat at any good man’s feast,
If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear
And know what ’tis to pity and be pitied,
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be:
In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.

DUKE SENIOR
True is it that we have seen better days,
And have with holy bell been knoll’d to church
And sat at good men’s feasts and wiped our eyes
Of drops that sacred pity hath engender’d:
And therefore sit you down in gentleness
And take upon command what help we have
That to your wanting may be minister’d.

ORLANDO
Then but forbear your food a little while,
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn
And give it food. There is an old poor man,
Who after me hath many a weary step
Limp’d in pure love: till he be first sufficed,
Oppress’d with two weak evils, age and hunger,
I will not touch a bit.

DUKE SENIOR
Go find him out,
And we will nothing waste till you return.

ORLANDO
I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort!

Exit

DUKE SENIOR
Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy:
This wide and universal theatre
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.

JAQUES
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM

DUKE SENIOR
Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen,
And let him feed.

ORLANDO
I thank you most for him.

ADAM
So had you need:
I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.

DUKE SENIOR
Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you
As yet, to question you about your fortunes.
Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.
SONG.

AMIENS
Blow, blow, thou winter wind.
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember’d not.
Heigh-ho! sing, & c.

DUKE SENIOR
If that you were the good Sir Rowland’s son,
As you have whisper’d faithfully you were,
And as mine eye doth his effigies witness
Most truly limn’d and living in your face,
Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke
That loved your father: the residue of your fortune,
Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man,
Thou art right welcome as thy master is.
Support him by the arm. Give me your hand,
And let me all your fortunes understand.

Exeunt


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Me and My Bully©

Copyright 2

2014

Felina Silver Robinson

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Even if you weren’t looking at me, I saw you
Even if you weren’t talking to me, I heard you
Even if you didn’t invite me, I really wanted to go
Even though you didn’t hear me, I was talking to you

You asked me why I’m always crying,
But I know you really don’t care
When I’m not looking, your laughing with your friends about me

At the beginning of the year I was happy and smiling
I was full of laughter
Walking around and hanging with my friends

Two months of knowing you
No one would dare to be my friend
Destined to be alone
I was always alone
Except for when you and your friends would hurt me

Who are you? You’re my Bully!

Why do you hurt me?
Because you feel small inside
Because those you love have no time for you
They leave you out in the cold
Your friends just use you, because you’re rich
Because they know you are going places and someday, they might need you

Don’t you know, you’re just like me
You’re bullied too, so stop hurting me and maybe just maybe
We can just be friends

I wrote this for all the kids that I know that are now being bullied or

was once bullied.
Stand up and take back your life.
Turn your bully into your friend,
Your bully is just as lonely as you are and maybe even lonelier.

I created the slide below to hopefully be used as an educational tool. I hope it helps.

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With a new school year just a month away, remember that there is no place for bullying in anyone’s lives.

Bullying has no place anywhere. Stop the pain of the innocent.

Use your voice and stop abusers in their tracks.


Love Becomes Peace©

Copyright 2015

by Felina Silver Robinson

If happiness flows freely

Laughter will heat up every room

If smiles are always present

Kindness will become overwhelming

If time is given

Love can grow from close to nothing

Then all you will know is peace



Put Your Happy Face On©

Copyright 2016

By Felina Silver Robinson

We wake up and put our happy face on

Knowing that behind the mask that covers the tears that forever roll down our cheeks

There are so many problems that we can’t even begin to fix

Friends offer to lend an ear knowing they have no intentions of helping with the problem

We must ask ourselves, are they really friends then?

Family bickers and pitts one against the other

They argue about what celebration will happen where and when

Everyone abandons you leaving in opposite directions angry at the lack of resolve

You’re left once again feeling powerless and holding the bag filled with other people’s problems and no help for your own

But as always, you stand strong and look past each obstacle and find the brightness at the end of the tunnel

 

Let nothing take your smile

Rest your head on the pillow that captures your tears

Wake up the next morning and put your happy face on

And just give them your whole heart


The Glass Slipper©

Copyright 2013

By Felina Silver Robinson

The Glass Slipper

The fit is perfect

It’s not loose

It’s not tight

It slides on

It slides off

It fits just right

Just like the smile

I find upon your face

Every time our eyes meet

Just like the frown that comes

Each time I have to leave you

When you place an engagement ring upon my finger

I melt into your arms

And our hearts beat as one

Tears of joy stream down my face

I can barely wait to share my news

and plan the wedding of a lifetime

Where I will once again slide on

The glass slipper

Along with the band

The band that will bind our lives

Together forever

Please  never break my

Glass slipper


In The Sea of My Mind©

Copyright 2013

By Felina Silver Robinson

I see hope

After the turmoil has settled

The silver lining becomes visible

All that I know is that help is needed

My hand is out

I’m offering it to those in need

Will they take it

I’m not sure

I was always told

That when someone asks for help

You give it

You give it freely and without regret

There will be a time when all good deeds

Will come back to you

In the sea of my mind

I see hope

I see people coming together

In time of need

Working towards a common goal

Aiding those in trouble

The innocent will be saved

For everyone willingly lent a helping hand

In the sea of my mind

I see and know success