For a friend.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

Is it possible
That so high debate,
So sharp, so sore, and of such rate,
Should end so soon and was begun so late?
Is it possible?

Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace;
That press the soul, or wring the mind with anguish;
Beyond comparison the worst are those
That to our Folly, or our Guilt we owe.

Put the kettle on
Put the kettle on
It is the British answer
to Armageddon.

Voyager upon life's sea,
To yourself be true,
And whatever your lot may be,
Paddle your own canoe.
 

 
Original Photo by T Truckle - Under CC BY-NC 2.0 licence

 I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember: