<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rdf:RDF xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"><channel rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/TheMyth"><title>Recollections in Moments of Tranquility - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/</link><description>Poems about dreams, love, nature, death...life!</description><sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase>2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/535287" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/535163" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/535156" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/534528" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/534524" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/534377" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/533490" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/533051" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/533030" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/532788" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/535287"><title>Baseball Bats and Mits!</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/535287</link><description>Baseball Bats and Mits! Have you ever cried to sleep-- have you ever felt that pain? Having lost a title game-- your tears falling, like rain. Then you know the sting of losing-- and that bitter, painful cloud, that lays about you heavily, like a burlap funeral shroud. But morning mitigates the...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/535163"><title>Two Mules</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/535163</link><description>Two Mules Two mules stood standing face to face, or rather snout to snout... and each argued most persuasively that the other should move out. But through the heat of summer, and through the freezing snow-- Neither mule was willing, to simply move--or go. Until hunger got the best of them, and...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/535156"><title>Chocolate Never Fails!</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/535156</link><description>Chocolate Never Fails! If roses fail to persuade her... if she turns as you arrive... if Chablis and Merlot don't impress... maybe chocolate will prevail! So bring a two pound box of Sees... it might be just the thing... and before too long--a heavy wife, will gladly where your ring!</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/534528"><title>The Heart</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/534528</link><description>The Heart You want a poem from the heart? It bleeds the darkest red-- And if fortune brings you love tonight, You'll understand what I have said. So bleed! Bleed! Bleed! oh heart, Thou organ I despise-- For if I can't be in love again, Then hasten my demise!</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/534524"><title>The Taproot</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/534524</link><description>The Taproot The gnarled, twisting taproot of the established Maple tree, it pops without the rocky earth, and returns to where its been. For the Maple--it needs water, and the taproot's charge is this: no matter what the distance, find a spring, or drop of rain, that the Maple may sustain itself,...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/534377"><title>A Mighty River</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/534377</link><description>A Mighty River Let the water flow down hill-- a rivulet, or stream, gurgling--babbling towards the sea, determined on its course. But what of the stones embedded-- and for a thousand years, or more, can they stop the waters flow, as a tissue stops ones tears? They do not stop the mighty stream,...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/533490"><title>A Rose Belongs Not in a Vase</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/533490</link><description>A Rose Belongs Not in a Vase A rose belongs not in a vase, but on a thorny vine-- in shades of white, or yellow, or hues of scarlet wine. And God forbid a dozen are held hostage in some room-- slowly dying day by day in the housewife's comely tomb. But spring will resurrect them in their shades...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/533051"><title>Irony</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/533051</link><description>The World's Most Perplexing Poem! Life! Life! Life!</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/533030"><title>Self-reflection</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/533030</link><description>The Bastard Speaks To challenge ones assumptions, is to challenge who we are, and to label one a bastard-- may be unfair, by far! But there is something in the title that attracts the darker side; that dark, and deep, and shameful place where our prejudice resides. Then again we all are human,...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/532788"><title>Nature</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/TheMyth/532788</link><description>The Butterfly She fluttered through the garden stopping every now, and then, but no sooner did I reach her when she flew away, again. But her lovely wings of gossamer were the purest turquoise blue, too beautiful to catch and pin, so away the net I threw.</description></item></rdf:RDF>