monday

flour

Comments

paola said…
Good morning!
It's a lovely day.
At least when it starts with you, like this.
Sarah Louise said…
I love me that song. Happy Monday.
Nora said…
I get a message that the photo is private and that I don't have permission to view this photo. Even after I created a flickr (sp?) account in order to do so. Poop.

--Nora
blackbird said…
Nora -

double poop.
I got a message that your profile is private, so I can't respond to your comment...
Schmutzie said…
I can see the photo, and I'm not logged in to Flickr. I likes.
Amy A. said…
What a pretty song. Thank you.
TX Poppet said…
I don't usually open audio files at work, but I'm glad today I did. Beautiful.
Terese said…
Bread and Roses
As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
For the people hear us singing: Bread and Roses! Bread and Roses!

As we go marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children, and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses.

As we go marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too.

As we go marching, marching, we bring the greater days,
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler, ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses, bread and roses.

Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
hearts starve as well as bodies; bread and roses, bread and roses.
Geggie said…
Yep, private for me too.

Have a lovely daly.
Annagrace said…
Lovely

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