tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66716041322014790362024-03-18T21:38:36.949-07:00Once Upon a Story..."When the SOUL is neglected, it doesn't just go away, it appears systematically in obsessions, addictions, violence and loss of Meaning." -Thomas Moore-Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.comBlogger116125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-13910154074963827882016-11-11T07:45:00.000-08:002016-11-11T07:45:40.651-08:00The Power of Prayer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Recently, I watched the movie entitled, "The War Room". It's a well written story about a married couple whose marriage in in trouble and how prayer was applied in order to save it. If you haven't seen it you can buy it on DVD. It's well worth it and covers many biblical principals for Christian believers. I am a Christian and not ashamed of it. In fact, I don't understand how people can get through life without the presence of God. He is real and wants to have a relationship with us. Having said that, there is also an evil presence in the world that will do everything possible to thwart us from having that relationship. The devil, named Satan, is very real, too. And the devil does not like it when we pray. I've written a prayer that you might like to read or, to pray out loud. No matter what you are going through, whether you feel temptation to do wrong, are feeling sad or lonely, or just thankful, it's always a good time to pray.<br />
<br />
<br />
Dear Heavenly Father,<br />
<br />
Every day you shower me with blessings. Some days I notice them and some days I don't. Forgive me Lord for taking you for granted. You are a light for my path and for the journey I must travel here on earth. Knowing this gives me hope. Hope that I can start over. You tell me in the scriptures that nothing can come between me and your love. Not even my sins. In Jesus, I have forgiveness of sin. Thank you for the gift of salvation. And thank you for each person in my life. They are part of my life because you have placed them there. Their presence weaves through my day like tapestry. Our paths crisscross for a reason and some will encourage me and others I must encourage. Help me to treat all people as I would want to be treated.<br />
<br />
I have many things to be thankful for but, I also have things that are difficult and unpleasant. I give you my concerns knowing that you will give me peace. And to show appreciation of this peace, remind me to forgive those that have hurt me and to humbly ask for forgiveness from those I have hurt. For it is only when I humble myself and forgive that you will hear me. May your will be done in the world, in my country, in my community and in my life. But no matter what happens thank you for the simple things in life. May you be glorified in my home and meals and conversation that I share with others. The ordinary events of my day become special because you are in it.<br />
<br />
In all these things I pray in Jesus' name.<br />
<br />
Amen.<br />
<br /></div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-64103971909517303692015-05-23T06:24:00.000-07:002016-08-01T18:54:35.768-07:00It's all in how you look at things!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Ever notice that people make assumptions to support their way of thinking rather than accept an idea that might threaten how they want to look at things. Here's an example of what I mean. Last summer I had a thriving, beautiful birch tree behind my kitchen window and this year I don't. It was debated in my family as to how it died. Perhaps a woodpecker we often saw pecking at it killed it, or it could have succumbed to the harsh cold winds of winter.<br />
<br />
I told my family that I thought the tree had too much water directed to it which caused problems for the tree's roots. Because the pipes in our sup-pump froze, water from our basement was redirected through the wall of the basement. Thankfully, this action prevented our basement from flooding, but a stream of water flowed towards the birch tree. Everybody in my house wanted to blame the woodpecker, but I didn't think if was the woodpecker's fault.. Whatever the reason the tree has been cut down. We plan to make something decorative from it's trunk and branches. <br />
<br />
In memory of my birch tree I'm posting several poems by Ted Hughes (1930 - 1998). Ted Hughes wrote numerous volumes of poetry from the late 1950's onward, and he was appointed Poet Laureate in 1984, receiving the Order of Merit in 1998. His classic story <em>The Iron Man</em> was made into a an animated film, <em>The Iron Giant</em>, in 1999, after his passing. I like Ted Hughes prose. His poems have some great insights about the animal he is writing about, although most of it is just delightfully silly.<br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>Woodpecker</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
Woodpecker is rubber-necked<br />
But has a nose of steel.<br />
He bangs his head against the wall<br />
and cannot even feel.<br />
<br />
When Woodpecker's jack-hammer head <br />
Starts up its dreadful din<br />
Knocking the dead bough double dead<br />
How do his eyes stay in?<br />
<br />
Pity the poor dead oak that cries <br />
In terrors and pains.<br />
But pity more Woodpecker's eyes<br />
And bouncing rubber brains.<br />
<br />
<strong>Flies</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
I don't know about flies.<br />
<br />
I don't like to see a fly<br />
Wandering about in the air<br />
Outside a rabbit-hole, then going in.<br />
Somebody's died down there.<br />
<br />
I don't like to see a fly<br />
Tapping the eye ball<br />
And peering into the eye<br />
Of a cow stretched out in her stall.<br />
<br />
And I hate to feel a fly<br />
When I'm taking a snooze after lunch<br />
Walk to my mouth-corner -<br />
As if just checking a hunch.<br />
<br />
<strong>Snail</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
With skin all wrinkled<br />
Like a Whale<br />
On a ribbon of sea<br />
Comes the moonlit Snail.<br />
<br />
The Cabbage murmurs:<br />
'I feel something's wrong!'<br />
The Snail says 'Shhh!<br />
I am God's tongue.'<br />
<br />
The Rose shrieks out:<br />
'What's this? O what's this?'<br />
The Snail says: 'Shhh!<br />
I am God's kiss.'<br />
<br />
So the whole garden<br />
(Till stars fail)<br />
Suffers the passion<br />
Of the Snail.<br />
</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-21758439880271632452015-04-30T09:30:00.002-07:002015-05-03T18:02:23.754-07:00It's Good to Dream!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<strong><u>Dreams</u></strong><br />
<strong><u></u></strong><br />
<em>Paul Laurence Dunbar</em><br />
<br />
What dreams we have and how they fly<br />
Like rosy clouds across the sky;<br />
Of wealth, of fame, or sure success;<br />
Of love that comes to cheer and bless;<br />
And how they wither, how they fade,<br />
The waning wealth, the jilting jade -<br />
The fame that for a moment gleams,<br />
Then flies forever, -dreams, ah -dreams!<br />
<br />
O burning doubt and long regret<br />
O tears with which our eyes are wet,<br />
Heart-throbs, heart-aches, the glut of pain,<br />
The somber cloud, the bitter rain,<br />
You were not of those dreams - ah? well,<br />
Your full fruition who can tell?<br />
Wealth, fame, and love, ah! love that beams<br />
Upon our souls, all dreams - ah! dreams.<br />
<br />
On the front page of yesterday's paper was a picture of a little girl that rides on my bus. She's the sweetest thing, is so kind and thoughtful of people around her. I've never met such a conscientious little girl. She's only five, but people can learn a lot from her. <br />
<br />
I won't say why her picture was in the paper, for privacy reasons, but when I commented that I saw her daughter's picture the mother replied that her daughter had her two minutes of fame. We laughed. Later it made me think how just two minutes of fame is enough for most of us. <br />
<br />
I got thinking. If we can dream it, that's enough sometimes. Being in the spotlight carries a lot of responsibility. When I think of political leaders that went down in history, many had destructive dreams and were not famous for doing good or good things. <br />
<br />
Just think, God will give you and allow what ever you can handle, happen for you in the life he gave you. If you are willing to be used for good, so is God willing to use you. </div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-36991236076661298932015-04-19T04:34:00.001-07:002016-07-08T13:40:34.322-07:00Dark, Rainy Days <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<u><strong>The Rainy Day</strong></u><br />
<br />
<em>by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</em><br />
<em></em><br />
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;<br />
It rains, and the wind is never weary;<br />
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,<br />
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,<br />
And the day is dark and dreary.<br />
<br />
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;<br />
It rains, and the wind is never weary;<br />
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past,<br />
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,<br />
And the days are dark and dreary.<br />
<br />
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;<br />
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining, <br />
Thy fate is the common fate of all,<br />
Into each life some rain must fall,<br />
Some days must be dark and dreary.<br />
<br />
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 - 1882) was born in Portland, Maine, U.S.A. Educated at Bowdoin College, he taught there and at Harvard. <br />
<br />
Longfellow never had an opportunity to fly in an airplane as we do today. He understood that the sun was shining behind the clouds in theory, but would not see that for himself. Imagine how exciting it would have been be for him if he could visit the future and look out the window of a large aircraft and see the sun shining above the clouds. <br />
<br />
We take flying for granted today and all the great discoveries that have made our lives better, or more comfortable. Consider the automobile, television, homes that are heated, or cooled with a flick of a switch, thanks to electricity. Consider how the internet enables people to communicate with others all over the world.<br />
<br />
If people back one hundred years or more ago could only have seen into the future. <br />
<br />
We have much to be thankful for. Still, we could worry about the future of this earth. It seems like the great discoveries man has discovered could destroy it. I know that many people are concerned about the future of the earth. And no wonder. When I listen to or, read the news there are a lot of sad events taking place every where. <br />
<br />
But I refuse to be fearful of the future because the creator of the world has the whole world in his hands. The Bible, God's word says that nothing can separate us from the love of God. Nothing can overcome or take control from our creator, God. God has promised to care for all those who trust in him. <br />
<br />
In Isaiah 40: 28-31, we read,<br />
<br />
Have you not know? Have you not heard?<br />
The LORD is the everlasting God,<br />
the creator of the ends of the earth.<br />
He does not faint or grow weary;<br />
his understanding is unsearchable.<br />
He gives power to the faint<br />
and to him who has no might he <br />
increases strength.<br />
Even youths will faint and be weary,<br />
and young men will fall exhausted;<br />
but they who wait for the LORD will <br />
renew their strength;<br />
they will mount up with wings like eagles;<br />
they will run and not be weary;<br />
they will walk and not faint.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-14526110206230793352015-03-30T11:06:00.002-07:002015-04-16T07:11:11.964-07:00Here Lie the Dead<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Lately I've been thinking a lot about W.W.I.I. The horrors, the deception and the waste of human life. Several books I've been reading are 'Hannah's Suitcase', 'The Diary of Anne Frank', and 'The Hiding Place,' by Corry Ten Boom.<br />
<br />
It does make one feel sad. To think of the suffering of good people at the hands of people that blindly follow an evil ideology. <br />
<br />
Of course I'm grateful there are people that are willing to defend their country and help people whose lives are in jeopardy. <br />
<br />
Still, it's hard to understand why people are so willing to inflict pain on others. Isn't life meant to be enjoyed? Are we not given life from a loving God so that we can love, help and encourage each other? <br />
<br />
War. What is it good for?<br />
<br />
<u>Here Dead Lie We</u> <br />
<br />
<em>by A.E. Housman.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
Here dead lie we<br />
Because we did not choose<br />
To live and shame the land<br />
From which we sprung.<br />
<br />
Life, to be sure,<br />
Is nothing much to lose,<br />
But young men think it is,<br />
And we were young.</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-83909717706384639402015-03-18T07:47:00.001-07:002015-04-16T07:11:32.361-07:00Memories of Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Spring is in the air and with it comes romance and fresh beginnings. It's a good time to make new plans and to reflect on how, or what changes we will make in our life. Take care though, some memories are just meant to be savoured. <br />
<u><strong></strong></u><br />
<u><strong></strong></u><br />
<u><strong>The First Day</strong></u><br />
<u></u><br />
<em>by Christina Georgina Rossetti</em><br />
<br />
I wish I could remember the first day, <br />
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,<br />
If bright or dim the season it might be<br />
Summer or winter for aught I can say;<br />
So unrecorded did it slip away, <br />
So blind was I to see and to foresee,<br />
So dull to mark the budding of my tree<br />
That would not blossom, yet, or many a May.<br />
If only I could recollect it. such<br />
A day of days! I let it come and go<br />
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;<br />
It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;<br />
If only now I could recall that touch,<br />
First touch of hand in hand - Did one, but know!<br />
<br />
<u><strong>False Though She Be</strong></u><br />
<u></u><br />
<em>by William Congreve</em><br />
<em></em><br />
False though she be to me and love,<br />
I'll ne'er pursue revenge;<br />
For still the charmer I approve,<br />
Though I deplore her change.<br />
<br />
In hours of bliss we oft have met:<br />
They could not always last;<br />
And though the present I regret,<br />
I'm grateful for the past.<br />
<em></em><br />
</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-46340459137359222042015-02-25T17:02:00.000-08:002015-04-16T07:12:28.645-07:00Another Kind of Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Do you have people in your life that are difficult to love? Most of us do. Here's a poem written by a well known and prolific author that addresses this common problem. You might not agree with her resolution, but I just love how she expresses it in words.<br />
<u></u><br />
<u></u><br />
<u>Another Kind of Love</u><br />
<u></u><br />
by Catherine Cookson<br />
<br />
Blood is thicker than water,<br />
It's true. But it indicates you should love<br />
Where you hate.<br />
Don't strain to love your kin,<br />
Put distance between,<br />
And stay away<br />
To prevent ulcers.<br />
And don't question when<br />
The stranger in the street<br />
Tugs at your heart,<br />
For here is your kin,<br />
The kindred spirit puts out its hand,<br />
And shakes,<br />
And awakes love.<br />
So do you meet your mate. <br />
No blood tie here but someone closer<br />
................than your skin.<br />
So don't worry<br />
When you cannot <br />
Love<br />
Your brother,<br />
Or your mother.<br />
Don't wilt, as if under a sin,<br />
You didn't ask for them to be your kin.<br />
So throw away your guilt;<br />
Love is no sin.<br />
<br />
<br />
Catharine Cookson was born in Tyne Dock, the illegitimate daughter of a poverty-stricken woman, named Kate, whom she believed to be her older sister. She later met and married Tom Cookson, a local grammar-school teacher. In 1968 she won the Winnifred Holtby Award for the best regional novel of the year. Her readership quickly spread throughout the world after that and her many bestselling novels made her one of the most popular contemporary women novelists. She wrote 104 books in her lifetime. Amazing! She died shortly before her ninety-second birthday in 1998. <br />
<br />
In Catharine's words: "<em>There are among the bitches those who smile too! These are the ones who do it while cutting your throat"</em> <br />
<br />
<u>Hello, Kitty dear!</u><br />
<br />
Hello, Kitty dear!<br />
How are you?<br />
<br />
Is it true that you are writing?<br />
How clever<br />
To come all this way<br />
From your background of drink<br />
And fighting,<br />
And, really, no education!<br />
My dear, how you must have worked.<br />
And, of course, to you all the glory.<br />
But tell me,<br />
Did you get<br />
Some educated person<br />
To edit for you<br />
Your story?<br />
<br />
<em>This, in so many words, was actually said to Catharine Cookson.</em><br />
<br />
<br />
</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-37748533874368286312015-02-01T17:57:00.001-08:002015-04-16T07:13:25.652-07:00How is the River a Piece of Sky<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What a lovely poem. I read this poem several times and still found something new to think about. <br />
<br />
One thought I had was how we believe some things to be true that are not true. Yet it gives us great joy. It could be a very innocent thing like 'Santa Claus'. As you get older you learn that 'Santa Claus' is an imaginary person, but you still like the memory of 'Santa' because Santa is a good memory.<br />
<br />
When people become parents they keep the allusion of 'Santa' alive so their children can enjoy it, too. It's pleasant to reflect on the innocence of yesterday especially when there is so much sadness in the news. <br />
<br />
Today, take time to drop a penny in the river and watch the sky ripple.<br />
<br />
<strong>The River Is a Piece of Sky</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
-John Ciardi (June 1916 - March 1986)<br />
<br />
From the top of a bridge<br />
The river below<br />
Is a piece of sky - <br />
Until you throw<br />
A penny in<br />
Or a cockleshell<br />
Or a pebble or two<br />
Or a bicycle bell<br />
Or a cobblestone<br />
Or a fat man's cane-<br />
And then you can see<br />
It's a river again.<br />
The difference you'll see<br />
When you drop your penny:<br />
The river has splashes,<br />
The sky hasn't any.<br />
<br />
John Ciardi was the son of Italian immigrants and taught at several university's in America. He left teaching in 1961 to pursue full time writing as a poet and spent some time with the, "Saturday Review" as a staff writer and critic. His love of words and language made him an admired poet in North America during the 1950's and onward. He wrote volumes of children's poetry along with a popular book entitled, "How does a poem mean." I've got to get that book.</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-13493884081209299652014-10-06T17:51:00.003-07:002015-04-16T07:14:18.597-07:00Prepare today for tomorrow<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Animals and birds don't have to be told the season is changing. They just know. Now that Autumn is upon us and leaves are turning color and fluttering in the breeze, birds are flocking together and planning their trip south. Many have left, except for the ones that stay all year. <br />
<br />
This is a favorite poem I enjoy all year, but especially this time of year. When I read it out loud I hear the words dance. Just like the leaves. It's a happy poem and reminds me to enjoy life in the moment. And not to fear the future. Tomorrow will take care of itself if we take a little time to prepare for it today. <br />
<br />
<u></u><br />
<u>Something Told the Wild Geese</u><br />
<br />
Something told the wild geese<br />
It was time to go.<br />
Though the fields lay golden<br />
Something whispered,- "Snow."<br />
Leaves were green and stirring,<br />
Berries, luster-glossed,<br />
But beneath warm feathers<br />
Something cautioned,-"Frost."<br />
All the sagging orchards<br />
Steamed with amber spice,<br />
But each wild breast stiffened<br />
At remembered ice.<br />
Something told the wild geese<br />
It was time to fly,-<br />
Summer sun was on their wings,<br />
Winter in their cry.<br />
<br />
<em>Rachel Lyman Field</em></div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-2870871970286474802014-09-20T06:06:00.001-07:002015-06-25T06:19:09.893-07:00Love Can Make a Difference!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My daughter is getting married in one month. Things will change after she and her beloved say "I do." Her love for her husband will grow and she will prefer him more. But that's good. That is the way it should be. She has been and will continue to be a kind and gracious daughter. <br />
<br />
Still, I will miss my little girl. She has brought me much joy, especially when she shares stories with me of her hospital work as a nurse. Her stories often make me laugh and demonstrate to me my daughter's strong character and good common sense. <br />
<br />
To celebrate her up-coming marriage I am posting a love poem because love makes life wonderful. It can make a simple moment in an otherwise dull day, a moment to treasure forever. <br />
<u></u><br />
<u>Because of Your Love</u><br />
<u></u><br />
<u></u><br />
Sometimes it feels like summer,<br />
Even on a winter day;<br />
It happens when you smile at me<br />
Or look a certain way.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I feel the sunshine <br />
When it's raining from the sky;<br />
It happens when you hold my hand<br />
And when I hear you sigh.<br />
<br />
Sometimes it feels like heaven,<br />
Where my every dream comes true;<br />
It happens when you look at me<br />
And say, "I love you, too."<br />
<u></u><br />
<u></u><br />
Patricia Ann Emme</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-63958888269611809652014-08-16T06:21:00.000-07:002015-04-16T07:16:29.489-07:00Sabine Sicaud-gifted child poet<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<u>The Little Pebbles Song</u><br />
<br />
They think he's silent. Me, I know he's singing, <br />
singing beside the path his little pebble song. <br />
But since he sings so softly, people really <br />
have no idea...<br />
Did he learn in the stream, or on the brooklet's dam,<br />
the flowing waters' secrets? Or did he learn, along the <br />
road, the secrets of creatures passing on their way?<br />
<br />
by-Sabine Sicaud<br />
<br />
I really enjoyed this poem. When I researched the author I appreciated it even more. <br />
<br />
Sabine Sicaud was born in France to loving parents. At eleven years of age, Sabine won a poetry contest and at thirteen years of age she had a poetry book published. <br />
<br />
She would be considered gifted in today's world. Sadly, two years later in 1928, she died of a mysterious illness (they now know it as Osteomyelitis). Many of her poems speak of her journey, first as a curious child, and then later during her illness.</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-47322170770299480522014-08-14T06:30:00.000-07:002015-04-16T07:18:30.493-07:00Finding Contentment <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've always been drawn to the simple things in life. No fuss, no muss is my motto. Yes, simple living is the best way to live. <br />
<br />
What I like about this poem is that everyone can relate. From the youngest person to the oldest. Sharing simple things can bring a whole lot of joy. We don't have to spend a lot of money to bring joy to someone's day. If you don't think so, I dare you to try it and find out for yourself. <br />
<br />
The Orange<br />
-by Wendy Cope<br />
<br />
At lunchtime I bought a huge orange-<br />
The size of it made us all laugh.<br />
I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave-<br />
They got quarters and I had a half.<br />
<br />
And that orange, it made me so happy,<br />
As ordinary things often do<br />
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park,<br />
This is peace and contentment. It's new.<br />
<br />
The rest of the day was quite easy.<br />
I did all my jobs on my list<br />
And enjoyed them and had some time over.<br />
I love you. I'm glad I exist.</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-54340866784930937362014-03-10T07:35:00.001-07:002015-04-16T07:20:54.610-07:00Today is mine. Yesterday is gone!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Each day brings new opportunities along with responsibilities. If we look forward to each day with confidence and excitement it will affect the end results greatly. Sometimes the end results won't be exactly what we had imagined. It might even be better! Being faithful to our obligations and commitments is where we begin. How our attitude and our spirit responds to events in our day is the key to achieving positive results.<br />
<br />
It's good to stimulate your mind with strong uplifting ideas of what you wish to accomplish. All the great inventors and philosophers did just that. Fresh opportunities might just be around the corner, even in the midst of our obligations. I hope you choose to make this day a great day in your progress toward an exciting life.<br />
<br />
The picture below is taken by me when I was in Alaska a few years back. It was a lovely walking trail that took us through a Carolina forest. The sights of tall straight coniferous trees and large leaves on dark green undergrowth was awesome.<br />
<br />
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<strong>TODAY IS MINE</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<em>by Myrtie Fisher Seaverns</em><br />
<strong></strong><br />
Today is mine. Yesterday is gone.<br />
We've no promise of tomorrow.<br />
May I live today with faith and trust.<br />
Nor care nor trouble borrow.<br />
<br />
Today is mine. Yesterday is gone.<br />
Tomorrow is yet to come.<br />
May I fill today with loving deeds,<br />
Close sheltered by love and home.<br />
<br />
Today is mine. Yesterday is gone.<br />
Tomorrow may never be.<br />
May God give me strength to live this day, <br />
Then I'll face tomorrow free.<br />
<br />
Today is mine. Yesterday is gone.<br />
Tomorrow is not yet mine.<br />
God help me use the hours today<br />
According to His design.<br />
<br />
Today is mine. Yesterday is gone.<br />
Tomorrow yet seems far away. <br />
The golden hours of today are mine;<br />
In God's hands is each new day.<br />
<br />
Today is mine. Yesterday is gone.<br />
Tomorrow but looms afar.<br />
May I strive to live my best today<br />
Guided by God's own star.<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong></strong> </div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-6175424581902630652014-02-25T09:22:00.000-08:002015-04-16T07:21:47.644-07:00"Be Still and Know that I am God" Psalms 46:10<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Lord, I do not understand but I know.<br />
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<br />
I do not understand how the sun gives warmth to the earth and causes gardens to grow and flowers to bloom, but I know it does. I do not understand how God's presence warms my heart and gives me abundant life but it does. I do not know where the birds learn their beautiful melodies, but I hear them sing. I do not understand how God's songs of hope and praise and love go into my heart, but they are there. I do not understand how nature helps the trees and flowers to survive the storms, but it does. I do not understand how God sustains me in the tempests of anxiety and fear that seem about to overwhelm me, but He does! I do not understand how God can sustain a whole world of people in a day like this, but I know He can. "God is our refuge and strength." In the midst of the cares and tribulations of our daily life, in the midst of war, sorrows, and disasters, He will not forsake us if we put our trust in Him.<br />
<br />
by Margery Moore Ballengee<br />
<br />
This article was taken from Ideals Vol. 26, No. 2 March 1969. I thought this spoke so fitting for today. Hope you enjoy the picture I added. Spring is near and my Dutch roots can't help but get excited about the tulips.</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-83707136786002139582013-10-13T18:13:00.001-07:002015-02-21T14:51:55.925-08:00Leisure:with no guilt strings attached<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Ever have one of those moments where you have a ton of stuff to do and all you long to do is to pause the hold button and just be. <br />
I have moments like that. In fact, my body tells me when I'm too busy or too stressed. I might get tension headaches, back aches or leg pains trying to keep it all together. In order to clear my head I need to be by myself. Especially when responsibility is piling up. And there is nothing wrong with that. <br />
As a happy introvert I need time to be alone. I don't think extraverts understand this very well. If introverts are constantly with people they loose touch with their creative side. Think about it. As satisfying as it is to be with people, it does require your mind to be on guard, to react, to respond, to converse and engage in meaningful conversations with others. <br />
Sometimes I need a break from all that in order to relax. The poems below will free you of any guilt of wanting to spend time by yourself. <br />
So go ahead. Relax and just be: with no guilt strings attached.<br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>What's a poem?</strong><br />
<br />
A whisper, a shout, thoughts turned inside out.<br />
A laugh, a sigh, an echo passing by.<br />
A rhythm, a rhyme, a moment caught in time.<br />
A moon, a star, a glimpse of who you are.<br />
<br />
<em>Charles Ghigna</em><br />
<br />
<strong>Leisure</strong><br />
<br />
What is this life, if, full of care,<br />
We have no time to stand and stare.<br />
<br />
No time to stand beneath the boughs<br />
And stare as long as sheep or cows.<br />
<br />
No time to see, when woods we pass,<br />
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.<br />
<br />
No time to see, in broad daylight,<br />
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.<br />
<br />
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,<br />
And watch her feet, how they dance.<br />
<br />
No time to wait till her mouth can<br />
Enrich that smile her eyes began.<br />
<br />
A poor life this, if, full of care,<br />
We have no time to stand and stare.<br />
<br />
<em>W. H. Davies</em></div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-80905074291900285322013-08-28T05:22:00.003-07:002015-04-16T07:21:37.335-07:00Hold On To Your Dreams!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's important to dream, isn't it. When I found this poem I knew it was the right poem to post. It describes all the emotions human being experience in order to keep a going when things are tough. <br />
<br />
Sometimes reality isn't so great. People hurt us and disillusion sets in. But when we have a place to go where life is good and magical, it makes a difference as to how we are able to handle the sad things in life. <br />
<br />
After you read this poem, read it over again slowly and let it soak in. You are going to feel better. And you might even dream up a solution to what ever problem you have in real life. <br />
<br />
Louise Driscoll (1875- 1957)<br />
<br />
Hold fast your dreams!<br />
Within your heart<br />
Keep one still, secret spot<br />
Where dreams may go,<br />
And, sheltered so,<br />
May thrive and grow<br />
Where doubt and fear are not.<br />
O keep a place apart,<br />
Within your heart,<br />
For little dreams to go!<br />
<br />
Think still of lovely things that are not true.<br />
Let wish and magic work at will in you.<br />
Be sometimes blind to sorrow. Make believe!<br />
Forget the calm that lies<br />
In disillusioned eyes.<br />
Though we all know that we must die,<br />
Yet you and I <br />
May walk like gods and be<br />
Even now at home in immortality.<br />
<br />
We see so many ugly things-<br />
Deceits and wrongs and quarrelings;<br />
We know, alas! we know<br />
How quickly fade<br />
The color in the west,<br />
The bloom upon the flower,<br />
The bloom upon the breast<br />
And youth's blind hour.<br />
Yet keep within your heart<br />
A place apart<br />
Where little dreams may go,<br />
May thrive and grow.<br />
Hold fast-hold fast your dreams!</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-91964324719390393322013-07-16T09:59:00.000-07:002015-04-16T07:23:22.192-07:00 Is God Real<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
The American poet, Emily Dickinson, hardly left her home in the mid 1800's, yet her insights into everyday life are astounding. To think is a gift from God and he gave this gift to everyone. Yet, not everyone uses this gift wisely. I find it surprising that Emily understood much about human behavior even though she was a bit of a recluse and had no radio or television or internet.<br />
<br />
Watching television uses little brain power. Too much of that will dull the mind. Doing puzzles, word games, reading and hand coordination games is good for the soul as well as the mind. It's also good for each person to question, to ponder and to converse with others their thoughts and ideas so that they can build a better life for themselves and a better world for those that follow. Emily spent a lot of time thinking and her poems demonstrate that.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>I never saw a Moor</strong><br />
-by Emily Dickinson-<br />
<br />
I never saw a Moor-<br />
I never saw the Sea-<br />
Yet know I how the Heather looks<br />
And what a Billow be.<br />
<br />
I never spoke with God<br />
Nor visited in Heaven-<br />
Yet certain am I of the spot<br />
As if the Checks were given-</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-19267839837839194412013-02-20T07:49:00.001-08:002015-04-16T07:23:35.373-07:00Fire and Ice<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Fire and Ice<br />
<br />
by Robert Frost<br />
<br />
Some say the world will end in fire.<br />
Some say in ice.<br />
From what I've tasted of desire<br />
I hold with those who favor fire.<br />
But if it had to perish twice,<br />
I think I know enough of hate <br />
To say that for destruction ice<br />
Is also great <br />
And would suffice.<br />
<br />
I've bought and laid out the food and the invitations have been sent. <br />
<br />
Yes, I'm having a party and the guests keep arriving. I'm not surprised to see so many. Word gets around when there's delicious food. In such a short time, too.<br />
<br />
Even with the icy cold winds and snow drifts hammering at the house the guests keep a-coming. And the noise is unbelievable. Everyone came in great spirits. I've never heard such joy and chatter on such a cold and blustery day. <br />
<br />
We have a variety of guests too. I counted a dozen or more of each kind. Cardinals, blue jays, sparrows, chickadee, finches, and a big gray squirrel. <br />
<br />
I am blessed to be able to host this party. The joy of giving is well worth it. But really, my guests have given me far more than I have given them. <br />
<br />
I want to leave you with another poem about perspective on this cold winter day. Spring is coming and the ice will soon melt away. <br />
<br />
A Linnet in a Gilded Cage<br />
<br />
by Christina Rossetti<br />
<br />
A linnet in a gilded cage,-<br />
A linnet on a bough,_<br />
In frosty winter one might doubt<br />
Which bird is luckier now.<br />
<br />
But let the trees burst out in leaf,<br />
And nests be on the bough,-<br />
Which linnet is the luckier bird,<br />
Oh who could doubt it now?<br />
</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-83545940257821673512013-02-04T07:30:00.002-08:002013-02-04T18:03:04.329-08:00For the love of animals<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
If only animals could talk. We would learn a lot about ourselves if they could. <br />
<br />
My dog has the most beseeching eyes and when she looks at me it's always because she wants love, food or approval. I often take her for granted as I rush past her to do some errand. I know that she forgives me when I ignore her. She has adjusted well to being the lowest peg on the rung. <br />
<br />
Still, I think she gets the most attention from everyone in the household. All because she's so darn cute.<br />
<br />
Here's a couple of poems with the insight of animals. I hope it gives you something to chew on. <br />
<br />
The Old Horse in the City<br />
<em>by Vachel Lindsay</em><br />
<em></em><br />
The moon's a peck of corn. It lies<br />
Heaped up for me to eat.<br />
I wish that I might climb the path<br />
And taste that supper sweet.<br />
<br />
Men feed me straw and scanty grain<br />
And beat me till I'm sore.<br />
Some day I'll break the halter-rope <br />
And Smash the stable-door,<br />
<br />
Run down the street and mount the hill<br />
Just as the corn appears.<br />
I've see it rise at certain times<br />
For years and years and years.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The Python<br />
<em>by Hilaire Belloc</em><br />
<br />
A Python I should not advise-<br />
It needs a doctor for its eyes,<br />
And has the measles yearly.<br />
However, if you feel inclined<br />
To get one (to improve the mind,<br />
And not from fashion merely),<br />
Allow no music near its cage;<br />
And when it flies into a rage,<br />
Chastise it most severely.<br />
<br />
I had an Aunt in Yucatan<br />
Who bought a Python from a man<br />
And kept it for a pet.<br />
She died because she never knew<br />
These simple little rules and few-<br />
The snake is living yet.<br />
<br />
</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-46997890822298316982012-12-29T18:09:00.002-08:002015-02-21T14:55:53.375-08:00Have you taken time to talk to someone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Happy New Year! The year is almost over and I've written few posts. I have regrets over this. I'm sure everyone has regrets. No person goes through life with no regrets. Everyone wishes at some point in their life they had done something differently. <br />
<br />
Well, what's done is done. For the last post of the year 2012, I wanted to leave something meaningful. I found a poem written by American poet Robert Frost, well known for his easy story like poems about human nature and rural life that are easy to read and understand. He passed away almost fifty years ago after writing volumes of poetry. He is now celebrated as one of America's distinguished poets and thankfully was honored for his writing during his lifetime. Not all poets are. He read his well-known poem "The Gift Outright" at president John F. Kennedy's inauguration in 1962.<br />
<br />
This poem reminds us to take time to stop, listen and talk with people along life's highway. It's a good thing to do. Instead of keeping busy for busy sake, it's more important to take time out from our work to pause and to visit with folks. A Time to Talk reminds the reader to slow down and to connect with someone even in the midst of our business in a pleasant way. How important is that. <br />
<br />
The projects, laundry, housework, homework or other necessary work can wait a few minutes. After all, clothes will get dirty and need to be washed again and we will get hungry and food will need to be prepared again. <br />
<br />
But that moment in which to exchange friendly words with another may not. And feeding the soul is just as important as feeding our stomachs.<br />
<br />
A Time To Talk <br />
Robert Frost<br />
<br />
When a friend calls to me from the road<br />
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,<br />
I don't stand still and look around<br />
On all the hills I haven't hoed,<br />
And shout from where I am, "What is it?"<br />
No, not as there is a time to talk.<br />
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,<br />
Blade-end up and five feet tall,<br />
And plod: I go up to the stone wall<br />
For a friendly visit.<br />
<br />
</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-86109722324219298782012-07-30T19:02:00.002-07:002012-07-31T06:41:45.701-07:00The Little Things<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A while back I had a poem published by a publication called 'Story Mates' and I've decided to post it. It's a poem I've turned into a song and I often sing it while I'm driving or at home. I hope who ever reads "The Little Things" enjoys it too. It really is the little things in life that are the most memorable. <br />
<br />
Without the thoughtful actions and words of others life is not as sweet as it could be. Family life flows better when we are thoughtful with our words and actions. A trip to the grocery store is made better with a pleasant cashier or helpful store clerk. When I go a place where I get served I try to make it as pleasant as possible for the person who is serving. After all they deserve the little things too.<br />
<br />
The Little Things<br />
- Diane Smit<br />
<br />
Often it's the little things<br />
the smallest act or deed,<br />
that mean the most to others<br />
and fill the greatest need.<br />
<br />
A helping hand, a smiling face<br />
the heartfelt words we say,<br />
an earnest prayer on one's behalf<br />
are things to do each day.<br />
<br />
It matters not if small or poor <br />
to do a thoughtful thing.<br />
For the language we call kindness<br />
makes everybody sing.</div>Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-25958212859335588072012-06-27T18:41:00.001-07:002015-06-25T06:21:52.442-07:00Love is like the Sun-The Night has a Thousand Eyes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The Night Has A Thousand Eyes<br />
<br />
by Francis William Bourdillon <br />
<br />
The night has a thousand eyes,<br />
And the day but one;<br />
Yet the light of the bright world dies<br />
With the dying of the sun.<br />
<br />
The mind has a thousand eyes,<br />
And the heart but one;<br />
Yet the light of a whole life dies<br />
When love is done.<br />
<br />
How true. Love to us is like the sun to the world. Without love, life is almost meaningless. <br />
<br />
Suppose we understand all the mysteries of life, are blessed with abundant knowledge and have amazing faith. If we are unwilling to love we are as nothing. <br />
<br />
Suppose we give tons of money to charities, help feed the poor and are willing to die for great causes. If we don't do it in love it will not do us much good.<br />
<br />
What does love have to do with this? Why everything! Love is what takes life from good to great. <br />
<br />
So what does love look like? Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is not envious of others. It does not brag and show off. Love does not behave rudely. It is not self seeking or selfish. Love is not easily provoked and thinks no evil. Love does not rejoice in evil thoughts, words, or deeds. Love believes, hopes, and rejoices in all things good and true. <br />
<br />
Love is so wonderful and perfect that it never fails. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-20960221494417457852012-04-17T10:13:00.004-07:002015-04-16T07:09:21.665-07:00The Quarrel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
It's always a great time to get rid of clutter in our homes. I've got a pile of stuff I haven't used in a long time waiting to be taken away. It feels so good to clear out the clutter and claim back much needed space. I'm finding that some of the junk, or stuff is still useful for others to use and other things, well, they are not. It's time to let them go. <br />
<br />
But there is something even more important than the junk that's piling up in our house. I'm speaking of the junk in our hearts and inner beings. I'm speaking of de-cluttering our hearts of things we need to let go of.<br />
<br />
I'm posting two poems that will blow you away. Though these poems were written for children, adults can relate to them too. <br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today's two poems talk about the secret to keeping good relationships, good, or, making them better. To keep our relationships healthy, everyone needs to use these seven small words from time to time. "I'm sorry." "I was wrong." "Please forgive me".<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you think about it, these seven small words hold a lot of power. By power I mean the power to heal. Anger, strife and pride hurt us more than we realize. They stop us from having rich and rewarding relationships. All because we are too proud to turn back and apologize. <br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we experience a conflict with someone we care about and feel that we are right, it's hard for us to see things any other way. Our pride and emotions get the better of us. You could say we let our negative, prideful emotions control us. They take over. We want the person we are angry with to say we are right. Sometimes, its just better to let it go.<br />
<br />
I want to challenge you. Take a moment and reflect. Think about someone you care about or have cared about in the past that you are having a conflict with. Could the power of these seven little words fix it?<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It's always, always worth a try. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Quarrel</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
by Eleanor Farjeon</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I quarrelled with my brother</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don't know what about,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One thing led to another</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And somehow we fell out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The start of it was slight,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The end of it was strong,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He said he was right,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I knew he was wrong!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We hated one another.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The afternoon turned black.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then suddenly my brother</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thumped me on the back,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And said, "Oh, come along!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We can't go on all night-</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was in the wrong.'</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So he was in the right.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> </o:p> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
The Silence</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">by John Mole</span></div>
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It wasn't your fault,</div>
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It was just the way</div>
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That things turned out</div>
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And I don't know why.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Nobody meant it</div>
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Whatever it was</div>
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That started the silence</div>
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All over the house.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Please don't go</div>
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But if you must</div>
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Then think of us sometimes.</div>
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You're the best.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Send me a postcard</div>
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(<i>wish you were here</i>)</div>
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And I'll believe you</div>
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Wherever you are.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Perhaps before long</div>
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The silence will break.</div>
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Every one's waiting</div>
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For you to speak.</div>
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Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-37515913775844299992012-03-15T05:43:00.002-07:002014-08-18T04:07:16.544-07:00Bee! I'm Expecting You!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It looks like spring and it feels like spring. Yet technically it's still winter. The weather is so warm we almost don't need a coat. The birds such as the robins are also back and busy collecting straw and building nests. I love it. <br />
To greet the spring I found a poem by Emily Dickinson an American poet. She wrote a lot of poetry yet it wasn't until her death in 1866, that the scope of her work was realized when her sister Lavinia found her poems in her dresser drawer. Only 10 of her 1,700 poems were published during her lifetime. I guess good things come from the most unassuming people. <br />
<br />
Bee! I'm Expecting You!<br />
<br />
Bee! I'm expecting you!<br />
Was saying yesterday<br />
to somebody you know<br />
that you were due-<br />
<br />
The frogs got home last week-<br />
are settled, and at work-<br />
birds, mostly black-<br />
the clover warm and thick-<br />
<br />
You'll get my letter by<br />
the seventeenth; Reply<br />
Or better, be with me-<br />
Yours, Fly.</div>
Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6671604132201479036.post-35419593610841416002012-02-10T09:30:00.001-08:002012-02-25T06:20:38.934-08:00Stork Story<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">If you're feeling old have I got a poem for you. I've recently become a great aunt. My brother had the honor of becoming a grandfather. I chose this poem because I enjoy Shel Silverstein. He's too funny. And kids really love his books. I have several. They make me laugh out loud and have an element of whimsy knit through it that borders on brilliance. Though Shel Silverstein died a few years ago, his words will live on for a long time, I suspect. <br />
I hope you enjoy this poem. <br />
<br />
<strong>Stork Story</strong><br />
<br />
You know the stork brings babies,<br />
But did you also know<br />
He comes and gets the older folks<br />
When it's their time to go?<br />
<br />
Zooms right down and scoops them up,<br />
Then flaps back out the door<br />
And flies them to the factory where<br />
They all were made before.<br />
<br />
And there their skin is tightened up,<br />
Their muscles all are toned,<br />
Their wrinkles all are ironed out,<br />
They're given brand-new bones.<br />
<br />
Ol' bent backs are straghtened up,<br />
New teeth are added too,<br />
Tired hearts are all repaired<br />
And made to work like new.<br />
<br />
Their memeories are all removed<br />
And they're shrunk down, and then<br />
The stork flies them back down to earth<br />
As newborn babes again.</div>Diane Smithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06424573566353367366noreply@blogger.com0