On Popular Demand – Rest is the sweet sauce of labor – [6]

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“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is hardly a waste of time.” – Sir John Lubbock

“Every now and then go away, have a little relaxation, for when you come back to your work your judgment will be surer. Go some distance away because then the work appears smaller and more of it can be taken in at a glance and a lack of harmony and proportion is more readily seen.” – Leonardo Da Vinci

“Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save.” – Will Rogers

“To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring — it was peace.”  – Milan Kundera

“There is precious little hope to be got out of whatever keeps us industrious, but there is a chance for us whenever we cease work and become stargazers.”  – H.M. Tomlinson

“Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths.” – Etty Hillesum

Hello everyone and welcome to another exciting round of our monthly segment “On Popular Demand.” Due to receiving the highest number of votes our topic for this week is “Rest.” How do you plan on resting after a day of hard work? Do you prefer going on long vacations to dream destinations or do you prefer sitting idle and soaking the sun in your backyard? Tonight, I want each and every one of you to pen down your views on rest and relaxation. Feel free to take the topic in whichever direction you desire. Previously written work is more than welcome. For further inspiration please refer to the two wonderful poems below:

Come, rest awhile

by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Come, rest awhile, and let us idly stray
In glimmering valleys, cool and far away.

Come from the greedy mart, the troubled street,
And listen to the music, faint and sweet,

That echoes ever to a listening ear,
Unheard by those who will not pause to hear

The wayward chimes of memory’s pensive bells,
Wind-blown o’er misty hills and curtained dells.

One step aside and dewy buds enclose
The sweetness of the violet and the rose;

Song and romance still linger in the green,
Em-blossomed ways by you so seldom seen,

And near at hand, would you but see them, lie
All lovely things beloved in days gone by.

You have forgotten what it is to smile
In your too busy life­come, rest awhile.

A Poet’s Life

by John Chizoba Vincent

Do not stand at my grave and weep
If you can’t offer me goodness now
That I am blossoming with life ventures.
The better angel of our black nature
Might not know a poet but a poet lives
With his life surrounded with obstacles
Which seems lost and unstable to behold.

A Poet sleep not but always awake
Creating and cancelling lines to suit.
He is here or there thinking on the
Next poem to write which will educate.
He is a thousand winds that transform men,
Though not present, but his words work
Wonders to the eyes that behold them in open.
Life of a poet is full of imagery and metaphor.

A poet’s life is the diamond that preserve dreams,
He foresees what will happen tomorrow but
Sometimes his prophesy push him to demons.
The sunlight that reflect the world lies in the blissful
Life of a poet who plays the tune that sweet the earth.
He is the rain that showers happily but
The people abuse him righteously in a glance.
A poet’s life is a life thinking and meditation.

In life, pens are the legs, and book, a friend.
Relaxation could be at flash that torture atoms.
Marriage, a bed of hell buttered with fierce
Hatred of a sweet bitterlove ’cause no time to love.
Children, at the mercy of their own because
Their father as a poet must attend to his calls.

A poet’s life is impeccable,
Leisure admonished with wired eyes soaring for
A simile that could unstable the winds that call.
A poet’s life has no definition of itself base on
The perception of the people or the critics there.
His life is the star that shines in the night to
Embarrass the faceless moon and invite the darkness.

The life of poets are the future hidden in the sun.
Though confronted with many challenges of life
But it face back on track of redemption at dawn,
Never giving in to the white motion of fear.

 

So pick up a pen and lets begin! As always the prompt will remain open the entire week so that everyone can write according to their own pace and time. Please click on the blue widget below. When it opens be sure to click on “add your link.” Now skip the blanks and proceed directly to “try here” written at the end in small font. It will direct you on how to link your poem. Please visit other Poets and do comment on their poems. Have fun ❤️

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