An old photo, obviously, when I was attempting to write poetry myself….I drew a blank! And this one on my blog today is much better!
Well, mama, papa and I feel strongly about immigrants and immigration. Weren’t we and aren’t we all immigrants in the USA? Funny how some forget that…
The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus (interesting name, no?)
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
History of this.
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