Author: Colleen Houck

Cites

• NULL (3)
  • IN: Recreated (2016) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Lost! Lost! Lost! O lost my love to me! He passes by my house, nor turns his head, I deck myself with care; he does not see. He loves me not. Would God that I were dead! God! God! God! O Amun, great of might! My sacrifice and prayers, are they in vain? I offer to thee all that can delight, Hear thou my cry and bring my love again. Sweet, sweet, sweet as honey in my mouth, His kisses on my lips, my breast, my hair; But now my heart is as the sun-scorched South, Where lie the fields deserted,grey and bare. Come! Come! Come! And kiss me when I die, For life, compelling life, is in thy breath; And at that kiss, though in the tomb I lie, I will arise and break the bands of Death.
    FROM: A Woman's Lost Love, (None), Poem, Egypt
  • IN: Reawakened (2015) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Oh! when my lady comes, And I with love behold her, I take her into my beating heart And in my arms enfold her; My heart is filled with joy divine For I am hers and she is mine. Oh! when her soft embraces Do give my love completeness, The perfumes Arabia Anoint me with their sweetness; And when her lips are pressed to mine I am made drunk and need not wine.
    FROM: The Wine of Love, (None), Poem, Egypt
• William Blake (1)
  • IN: Tiger's Curse (2011) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Tiger! Tiger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
    FROM: The Tiger, (1794), Poem, UK
• Colleen Houck (1)
  • IN: Tiger's Destiny (2012) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Does Rising Phoenix know his fate? He's born, grows strong, and learns to fly. He builds a nest and seeks a mate, He sleeps and thirsts and hunts the sky. Does he know his future blazes? A quelling flame will take his life? When purging heat the pyre raises, Consuming all his earthly strife? Does stinging dread seep through his breast? Does he regret past choices made? Does heartbreak stir his feather'd crest? Does he perceive the price he's paid? Exquisite once, his body burns As he cries out in pain and fear. Charred and black his feathers turn, Conceding life, he sheds a tear. From death so dire, another soul Emerges new to take his place. With destiny and purpose whole A glorious dawn begins apace! Does Rising Phoenix thank his sire For embers black that gave him birth? Does he too know his fate is fire? Can he enjoy his time on Earth?
    FROM: "Rising Phoenix", (2012), Author, US
• Unknown (1)
  • IN: Tiger's Quest (2011) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Man's life is laid in the loom of time To a pattern he does not see, While the weavers work and the shuttles fly Till the dawn of eternity. Some shuttles are filled with silver threads And some with threads of gold, While often but the darker hues Are all that they may hold. But the weaver watches with skillful eye Each shuttle fly to and fro, And sees the pattern so deftly wrought As the loom moves sure and slow. God surely planned the pattern: Each thread, the dark and fair, Is chosen by His master skill And placed in the web with care. He only knows its beauty, And guides the shuttles which hold The threads so unattractive, As well as the threads of gold. Not till each loom is silent, And the shuttles cease to fly, Shall God reveal the pattern And explain the reason why The dark threads were as needful In the weaver's skillful hand As the threads of gold and silver For the pattern which He planned.
    FROM: The Loom of Time, (None), Poem, NULL
• John Moultrie (1)
  • IN: Tiger's Voyage (2011) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Forget thee? If to dream by night and muse on thee by day; If all the worship deep and wild a poet's heart can pay; If prayers in absence breathed for thee to Heaven's protecting power; If winged thoughts that flit to thee a thousand in an hour; If busy fancy blending thee with all my future lot-- If this thou call'st forgetting, thou, indeed, shalt be forgot! Forget thee? Bid the forest-birds forget their sweetest tune; Forget thee? Bid the sea forget to swell beneath the moon; Bid the thirst flowers forget to drink the eve's refreshing dew; Thyself forget thine own dear land, and its mountains wild and blue. Forget each old familiar face, each long-remember'd spot-- When these things are forgot by thee, then thou shalt be forgot! Keep, if thou wilt, thy maiden peace, still calm and fancy-free, For God forbid thy gladsome heart should grow less glad for me; Yet, while that heart is still unwon, oh! bid not mine to rove, But let it nurse its humble faith and uncomplaining love; If these, preserved for patient years, at last avail me not-- Forget me then; but ne'er believe that thou canst be forgot!
    FROM: "Forget Thee?", (1825), Poem, UK

Cited by

• Colleen Houck (1)
  • IN: Tiger's Destiny (2012) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Does Rising Phoenix know his fate? He's born, grows strong, and learns to fly. He builds a nest and seeks a mate, He sleeps and thirsts and hunts the sky. Does he know his future blazes? A quelling flame will take his life? When purging heat the pyre raises, Consuming all his earthly strife? Does stinging dread seep through his breast? Does he regret past choices made? Does heartbreak stir his feather'd crest? Does he perceive the price he's paid? Exquisite once, his body burns As he cries out in pain and fear. Charred and black his feathers turn, Conceding life, he sheds a tear. From death so dire, another soul Emerges new to take his place. With destiny and purpose whole A glorious dawn begins apace! Does Rising Phoenix thank his sire For embers black that gave him birth? Does he too know his fate is fire? Can he enjoy his time on Earth?
    FROM: "Rising Phoenix", (2012), Author, US