Mabulous Monday!

I noticed how my posts relied a lot on pictures. They break up my boring wall of descriptive text and say about as much. This allows my text to become small-paragraphed and droll. But seriously, I do not read every post of everyone’s. One great thing about the wordpress reader: it does not count the number of blogs you’ve not read. On Google reader mine reached the hundreds. I think about my blog a lot in a day, think about the content and the comments I may receive, and I try to vary it enough to keep as many people as possible interested, which is not to say I force myself to write a poem this day or describe a craft that day, but I do keep variation in mind. 

I decided to image search if, and “If by Rudyard Kipling” appeared. Here, from a regular search:

(‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies)

If you can keep your head when all about you   

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

    But make allowance for their doubting too;   

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

 

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;   

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;   

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same;   

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

    And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

    To serve your turn long after they are gone,   

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,   

    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

    If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,   

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,   

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

 

Not bad. I would add ‘woman, my daughter,’ in there for modernity’s sake and because it frickin makes sense either way! Regardless, a cool bit for a post even though I mostly like to post original content. Keep yer tickers knockin me subscribers!