Ponder the difference between want and need

Dust if you must                                By rose Millagan

Hello Clovers! Kindly check out one of the poems I narrated on my Youtube channel. It’s called “Dust if you must” by Rose Milligan.

Don’t forget to subscribe to my channel here

You can suggest any of your favourite poems for me to narrate next in the comments. I’d be expecting them.

‘Dust if you must’ by Rose milligan is a poem about life in general. It explores the simple things we can do to enjoy life and also be at peace. Examples of these include painting, baking or writing as Milligan describes in the poem.

A very important point to be taken is when Millagan tells the reader to ponder the difference between want and need. That means you should think hard on things that are necessities in your life, that is what you need to survive and all other things that aren’t in that list are “wants” not “needs”. ” Wants” can be seen as merely a form of luxury. The things we only desire perhaps for worldly enjoyment. Milligan also reminds the reader of a time coming and they might not be able to do what they want “old age will come and it’s not kind”. This can be seen as a reminder that we are growing older each day and we can do what we like now but in the end we will become dust. Perhaps another notice to live a simple pleasant life without much fuss because we will all be gone some day.

This is my own idea of what the poem symbolizes. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts too.

Dust If You Must
by Rose Milligan
 
Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world's out there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust.

The will: poem of the day

THE WILL TO WIN
By Berton Braley
If you want a thing bad enough
To go out and fight for it,
Work day and night for it,
Give up your time and your peace and
your sleep for it

If only desire of it
Makes you quite mad enough
Never to tire of it,
Makes you hold all other things tawdry
and cheap for it

If life seems all empty and useless without it
And all that you scheme and you dream is about it,

If gladly you'll sweat for it,
Fret for it, Plan for it,
Lose all your terror of God or man for it,

If you'll simply go after that thing that you want.
With all your capacity,
Strength and sagacity,
Faith, hope and confidence, stern pertinacity,

If neither cold poverty, famished and gaunt,
Nor sickness nor pain
Of body or brain
Can turn you away from the thing that you want,

If dogged and grim you besiege and beset it,
You'll get it!




	


	





	

		
A fallen leaf: poem of the day
	


	
			

				
			


		
	

		

A FALLEN LEAF
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox






A trusting little leaf of green,
A bold audacious frost;
A rendezvous, a kiss or two,
And youth for ever lost.
Ah, me!
The bitter, bitter cost.

A flaunting patch of vivid red,
That quivers in the sun;
A windy gust, a grave of dust,
The little race is run.
Ah, me!
Were that the only one.



	


	





	

		
A fallen leaf: poem of the day
	


	
			

				
			


		
	

		

A FALLEN LEAF
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox





A trusting little leaf of green,
A bold audacious frost;
A rendezvous, a kiss or two,
And youth for ever lost.
Ah, me!
The bitter, bitter cost.

A flaunting patch of vivid red,
That quivers in the sun;
A windy gust, a grave of dust,
The little race is run.
Ah, me!
Were that the only one.




	


	





	

		
I measure every grief: poem of the day
	


	
			

				
			


		
	

		

Voice of the grey clover





I measure every Grief I meet 
By Emily Dickinson 






I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, eyes – 
I wonder if It weighs like Mine – 
Or has an Easier size.

I wonder if They bore it long – 
Or did it just begin – 
I could not tell the Date of Mine – 
It feels so old a pain – 

I wonder if it hurts to live – 
And if They have to try – 
And whether – could They choose between – 
It would not be – to die – 

I note that Some – gone patient long – 
At length, renew their smile –  
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil – 

I wonder if when Years have piled –  
Some Thousands – on the Harm –  
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm –  

Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve – 
Enlightened to a larger Pain –  
In Contrast with the Love –  

The Grieved – are many – I am told –  
There is the various Cause –  
Death – is but one – and comes but once –  
And only nails the eyes –  

There's Grief of Want – and grief of Cold –  
A sort they call "Despair" –  
There's Banishment from native Eyes – 
In sight of Native Air –  

And though I may not guess the kind –  
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary –  

To note the fashions – of the Cross –  
And how they're mostly worn –  
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like my own – 

	


	





	

		
Dewdrops: poem of the day
	


	
			

				
			


		
	

		

DEWDROPS
By Myra Viola Wilds





Voice of The Grey Clover






Watch the dewdrops in the morning,
   Shake their little diamond heads,
Sparkling, flashing, ever moving,
   From their silent little beds.

See the grass! Each blade is brightened,
   Roots are strengthened by their stay;
Like the dewdrops, let us scatter
   Gems of love along the way.

	


	





	

		
Growth must be chosen #quoteoftheweek
	


	
	

		

Hi Clovers! It’s a new week, you know the drill so let’s get to it.





This week, we’re going to discuss our growth so far. How much improvements have you noticed in yourself this year?





It could be physical or psychological. Your “glow up” phase, goes on every day whether you like it or not. Every move you make, intentional or not leads to a particular outcome. 










So if you want growth, you have to move forward to some unfamiliar routes. You may even have to leave your comfort zone, you know that safe space you’re used to. It’s not gonna bring any growth or progress. It sure is comfortable but there’s no room for growth. You’ll only remain the same if you stay there. You have to move away and face your fears.





Remember all the things we’ve talked about so far this year? Well Clovers, whatever improvements you’ve made, no matter how little it may seem. I want you to know that I am proud of you and you should be proud of yourself too.





Yes you have!





The only way to go from here is forward Clovers! Forward towards growth. You’ve been in the comfort zone for far too long. Now it’s time to overcome the fear of whatever is out there and choose growth. 





Yep





Enjoy the journey as it comes.





Till next time Clovers!






	


	





	

		
Be the best: poem of the day
	


	
			

				
			


		
	

		

BE THE BEST OF WHATEVER YOU ARE
By Douglas Malloch





If you can't be a pine on the top of the hill,
  Be a scrub in the valley — but be
The best little scrub by the side of the rill;
  Be a bush if you can't be a tree.

If you can't be a bush be a bit of the grass,
  And some highway happier make;
If you can't be a muskie then just be a bass —
  But the liveliest bass in the lake!

We can't all be captains, we've got to be crew,
  There's something for all of us here,
There's big work to do, and there's lesser to do,
  And the task you must do is the near.

If you can't be a highway then just be a trail,
  If you can't be the sun be a star;
It isn't by size that you win or you fail —
  Be the best of whatever you are!




	


	





	

		
In minor ways we differ, in major we’re the same
	


	
			

				
			


		
	

		

Hi Clovers! I just posted a new poetry reading video on my Youtube channel 










Don’t forget to give a like and leave comments on other poems you’d like to hear me read.





And most importantly, kindly subscribe to my channel here





Till next time clovers! I hope you enjoy it.





	


	





	

		
The road not taken
	


	
			

				
			


		
	

		

Voice of The Grey Clover





THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
By Robert Frost






Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference








	


	



	
		

	



	


		









	

		

	



	
	


	
	
					
		
		
		




	
		
	

		

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