A Bended Oak Bungalow

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A Bended Oak Bungalow

�(re)write your story: relax, relate & revel in dog & family fun at a galveston airbnb/vrbo w/ ret Pet-friendly, kid-friendly

12/10/2024

{O Sea! | excerpt of poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson}

Break, break, break,
On thy cold grey stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.

04/07/2023

{🇺🇸american lyric | ✍️excerpt of a poem by amanda gorman}

Hope—
we must bestow it
like a wick in the poet
so it can grow, lit,
bringing with it
stories to rewrite—
the story of a Texas city depleted but not defeated
a history written that need not be repeated
a nation composed but not yet completed.

There’s a poem in this place—
a poem in America
a poet in every American
who rewrites this nation, who tells
a story worthy of being told on this minnow of an earth
to breathe hope into a palimpsest of time—
a poet in every American
who sees that our poem penned
doesn’t mean our poem’s end.
.

01/07/2023

{🤿by the pool | ✍️excerpt of a poem by kathleen ossip}

In the story of my life there is a field
filled with chicory, daisies, and mayflowers.
It’s the field behind my childhood house.
In summer, I used to spend hours

lying in it looking at clouds
before my mother brought us to the town pool
where I spent some more hours swimming.

…

11/06/2023

{🎶vacation | ✍️excerpt of a poem by caroline finkelstein}

It was a household much in love with music.
She opened the door and saw her shadow.
She didn’t interfere. The trees and the moon - they didn’t
interfere. The dog wanted to but the cat did not.
The beautiful baby was sleeping and sleeping.
Brahams sighed. She closed the door hard.

…

👉Link in bio :: stay & play this summer

23/05/2023

{🪶gulls are kissing time | ✍️excerpt of a poem by john ciardi}

In a detachment cool as the glint of light
on wet roads through wet spruce, or iced mountains
hailed from the sea in moonfill, or the sea
when one horizon’s black and the other burning;

the gulls are kissing time in its own flowing
over the shell-scraped rock a coming and going
as of glass bees with a bubble of light in each
running errands in and out of the sunset.

Over the road and the spruce wood, over the ice,
and out the picture of my picture window,
the exorbitant separation of nature from nature
wheels, whirls, and dances on itself.

Now damn me for a moral. Over and out,
over and in, the gulls drift up afire,
screaming like hinges in the broken air
of night and day like two smokes on the sea.

And I do nothing. A shadow three feet under
my window in the light, I look at light
in one of the years of my life. This or another.
Or all together. Or simply in this moment.

…

02/05/2023

{🌳a bended oak | ✍️excerpt of a poem by adrienne rich}

I won't tell you where it is, so why do I tell you
anything? Because you still listen, because in times like these
to have you listen at all, it's necessary
to talk about trees.

…

09/04/2023

{🐇easter | poem by joyce kilmer}

The air is like a butterfly
with frail blue wings.
The happy earth looks at the sky
And sings.

…

20/02/2023

{🎂birthday lights | ✍️poem by calef brown}

Light bulbs on a birthday cake.
What a difference that would make!
Plug it in and make a wish,
then relax and flip a switch!
No more smoke
or waxy mess
to bother any birthday guests.
But Grampa says, “it’s not the same!
Where’s the magic?
Where’s the flame?
To get your wish without a doubt,
You need to blow some candles out!”

…

04/02/2023

{💨fog | ✍️poem by carl sandburg}

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

…

07/01/2023

{🌕moonlight, in the harbor | ✍️poem by h.w. longfellow}

As a pale phantom with a lamp
Ascends some ruin's haunted stair,
So glides the moon along the damp
Mysterious chambers of the air.

Now hidden in cloud, and now revealed,
As if this phantom, full of pain,
Were by the crumbling walls concealed,
And at the windows seen again.

Until at last, serene and proud
In all the splendor of her light,
She walks the terraces of cloud,
Supreme as Empress of the Night.

I look, but recognize no more
Objects familiar to my view;
The very pathway to my door
Is an enchanted avenue.

All things are changed. One mass of shade,
The elm-trees drop their curtains down;
By palace, park, and colonnade
I walk as in a foreign town.

The very ground beneath my feet
Is clothed with a diviner air;
White marble paves the silent street
And glimmers in the empty square.

Illusion! Underneath there lies
The common life of every day;
Only the spirit glorifies
With its own tints the sober gray.

In vain we look, in vain uplift
Our eyes to heaven, if we are blind,
We see but what we have the gift
Of seeing; what we bring we find.

…

06/01/2023

{❄️twelfth morning; or what you will | ✍️excerpt of a poem by elizabeth bishop}

Like a first coat of whitewash when it’s wet,
the thin gray mist lets everything show through […]

The sea’s off somewhere, doing nothing. Listen.
An expelled breath. And faint, faint, faint
(or are you hearing things), the sandpipers’
heart-broken cries […] “the Day of Kings.”

…

03/01/2023

{💨on a foggy run | ✍️found }
We’re all
damaged.
It’s how we
still love
with a
broken
heart that
matters.
…

Address

East End Historical District
TX

Telephone

+14098777404

Website

https://linktr.ee/bendedoak

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