The Riddle of Strider - J.R.R Tolkien

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

Still here By Sarah Kay

My grandmother's awakened bed
A language I don't understand runs circles round her head
Her words get jumbled on her lips and brought her out to play
I press my head against her chest her heartbeat seems to say:
Still here, still here
You can miss me when I'm gone
But I'll keep on holding on as long as I'm still here
I've seen the fire I've seen the storm
I took a stranger by the hand and tried to keep them warm
The buildings rolled the rivers rose at the hands of Gods and men
They can break this city down to dust and well build it back again
Still here, still here
They can give us all they got
But they won't destroy us not as long as I'm still here
I've walked these shoes until they're thin
I've wandered halfway round the world and wandered back again
The road is long the night is cold when I'm out there on my own
Your face lit by the hallway lamp is how I know I'm home
Still here, still here
I can travel till I'm lost
But the fight is worth the cost as long as you're still here
(you're still here)
Still here (you're still here)
The writer lies awake again
He knows that he's crossed to bear the paper and the pen
His times on this earth is short, the end could be tonight
He doesn't fear the end of times, he fears he cannot write
Still here, still here
I'm not afraid to move along
Here's a poem and a song
To know that I'm still here

A love letter from a toothbrush to a bicycle tire By Sarah Kay

They told me that I was meant for a cleaner life
That you would drag me through the mud
They said that you would tread all over me
That they could see right through you
That you were full of hot air
That I would always be chasing
Always watching you disappear after sleeker models
That it would be a vicious cycle
But I know better
I know about your rough edges
And I have seen your perfect curves
If loving you means getting dirty
Bring on the grime
I will leave this porcelain home behind
I'm used to twice a day relationships
But with you, I'll take all the time
And I know that we live in different worlds
And we're always really busy
But in my dreams
You spin around me so fast
I always wake up dizzy
So, maybe one day
You'll grow tired of the road
And roll on back to me
And when I blink my eyes into morning
Your smile will be the only one I see

Tracing By Gottfried Benn

...

And in the rain,
falling on the leaves,
I hear an old forest song,
from forests I crossed
and saw again, but I didn't return
to the hall where they were singing,
the keys were silent,
the hands were resting somewhere,
apart from the arms that held me,
moved me to tears,
hands from the eastern steppes,
long since trampled and bloody -
only the forest song
in the rain
dark days of spring
the everlasting steppes.

Private Parts by Sarah Kay

...

Some nights, I wake up, knowing he's anxious.
He is across the world in another woman's arms
and the years have spread us like dandelion seeds,
sanding down the edges of our jigsaw parts that used to only fit each other

He drinks from the pitcher on the night stand,
checks the digital clock,
it is five A.M.
He toses in sheets and tries to settle.
I wait for him to sleep,
before tucking myself into elbows and knees;
reaching for things I have long since given away.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage by George Gordon Byron

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal,
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

- In “The Bridges of Madison County”