August 5, 2010

The Forgotten Mother

A gray old woman sits all alone Unloved, uncherished and unknown. Sitting beside her broken door. Dreaming of days past long ago, When children played about her knee Filling the air with childish glee, Tended by her with loving care. Knowing the blessing of a Mother’s prayer. But now they have gone, each to his life A girl to her husband, a boy to his wife, Forgetful are they of her who sits here Silently wiping a tricking tear, For striving for things in a life so brief Blind their poor eyes to a dear Mother’s grief. But does she upbraid them in word or in mind. Nor does their neglect to her seem unkind. She’ll forgive and forget all unkindness they’ve shown This poor old mother who sits alone. RUBY LATIMER EDWARDS Silvie
July 27, 2010

Childhood Memories

Skinned knees, climbing trees, forts of sheets, sugary sweets, hide-n-seek, taking peeks, Spaghetti O’s, pants with holes, summer nights, pillow fights, Christmas trees, play in leaves, eating dirt, dirty shirt, monkey bars, shooting stars, bright balloons, afternoons, school bell rings, choir sings, taking tests, try my best, friends fight, summer nights, friends play, summer day, snow fort, life’s short, memories, part of me, will not forget, will not regret, worth more than gold, a treasure to hold, thank God for these, Childhood Memories. © Ellen M. DuBois
June 28, 2010

Buttercups and Daisies

Buttercups and daisies- Oh the pretty flowers, Coming ere the springtime To tell of sunny hours. While the trees are leafless, While the fields are bare, Buttercups and daisies Spring up here and there. Ere the snowdrop peepeth, Ere the croscus bold, Ere the early primrose Opes its paly gold, Somewhere on a sunny bank Buttercups are bright; Somewhere ‘mong the frozen grass Peeps the daisy white. Little hardy flowers Like to children poor, Playing in their sturdy health By their mother’s door: Purple with the north wind, Yet alert and bold; Fearing not and caring not, Though they be a-cold. What to them is weather! What are stormy showers! Buttercups and daisies Are these human flowers! He who gave them hardship And a life of care, Gave them likewise hardy strength, And patient hearts, to bear. Welcome yellow buttercups, Welcome daisies white, Ye are in my spirit Visioned, a delight! Coming ere the springtime Of sunny hours to tell- Speaking to our hearts of Him Who doeth all things well.
June 22, 2010

The Fieldmouse

Where the acorn tumbles down, Where the ash tree sheds its berry, With your fur so soft and brown, With your eye so round and merry, Scarcely moving the long grass, Fieldmouse, I can see you pass. Little thing, in what dark den, Lie you all the winter sleeping? Till warm weather comes again, Then once more I see you peeping Round about the tall tree roots, Nibbling at their fallen fruits. Fieldmouse, fieldmouse, do not go, Where the farmer stacks his treasure, Find the nut that falls below, Eat the acorn at your pleasure, But you must not steal the grain He has stacked with so much pain. Make your hole where mosses spring, Underneath the tall oak’s shadow, Pretty, quiet harmless thing, Play about the sunny meadow. Keep away from corn and house, None will harm you, little mouse. Cecil Frances Alexander Lily
May 31, 2010

Bridal Diaper

The Bridal Diaper is an urban legend circulated widely among Adult Baby and Diaper Lover communities. The legend is that it is a popular trend for brides to wear some form of diaper under their wedding dress. The legend is propagated as a fantasy of many fetishists, as male fetishists are attracted to the idea of a bride wearing a diaper under her dress, and female fetishists are attracted to the idea of wearing a diaper under their dress. Thanks to internet message boards, a fairly small number of fetishists have been able to create rumors, anecdotes and reports that it is surprisingly popular for otherwise normal women to wear a disposable diaper as bridal lingerie. Going into an actual bridal boutique or asking people who really work in the wedding industry is more likely to elicit rolled eyes and sighs, as the legend is known by most professionals, albeit somewhat obscure. Silvie
May 29, 2010

What Heroes Gave

Each donned their uniform to be Defenders of our liberty Their mission sure, their spirits bright Guard freedom’s home, be brave to fight One final day each faced their call Each gave their best enduring all We’ll never know what they went through But know they loved this country true Deep down inside we should all feel What heroes gave, their cost so real We must stay thankful, grateful of The gift of freedom through their love Their loved ones bore the gravest pain What we can’t know, some now sustain To God I pray their pain will cease And each will find long-lasting peace Remember this from year to year What heroes gave – shan’t disappear We’ll never let their special day Their time for honor slip away These brave fought for a nation free If not for them, where would we be? by Roger Robicheau Lily
May 16, 2010

ABY's in Space – A Journey to Remember

Part 1 We boarded the spacecraft; Mommy Sara, Mommy Ava, Mommy Maggy, Mommy Scarlet, Mommy Minnie, and Daddy Paul along for the ride were Cameron, ABJessie, and few others we kidnapped for the voyage. Everyone had a job to do. Cameron and ABJessie were in charge of the lights and sounds. Daddy Paul in charge of lasers, Scarlet was in charge of the speed controls, Mommy Maggy watched over the nursery, Mommy Ava set the course, and Mommy Minnie the radio, and Mommy Sara steered. They were a little hesitant as they set off on their journey sailing out into deep space. However, they we excited at the same time. As they ventured out into the glorious universe, they flew by Saturn and Mars and gazed in awe at the wonderment surrounding them. We floated effortlessly across the universe. Prologue: Together they shall embark upon a magical journey with many fun and some frightening adventures along the way. Come embark upon this ride with us as we explore it together and meet more caring and witty Mommies, Sitters, and Nannies. Meet fun and amusing Babies, and other mystical creatures along the way. Be part of something no one has been part of before, come explore with us here at phone a mommy together we shall make history as we set off into a dramatic saga of AaaaBbY’sssssss Innnnn Spaceeeeee! Departures are every 1st & 15th of the month beginning @ 8pm est. departure local :phoneamommy chatroom. No reservations needed. Mommy Sara 1 888 430 2010
May 8, 2010

A Rose

The first red rose Sent out of season The second red rose Sent for no reason The third red rose Sent for happiness and health The fourth red rose Sent for gaining life’s wealth The fifth red rose Sent for gaining new friends The sixth red rose Sent for guiding you through life’s bends The seventh red rose Sent for praying you never tire The eighth red rose Sent for giving you all of your desire’s The ninth red rose Sent for your happiness in love The tenth red rose Sent for hoping I’m your turtledove The eleventh red rose Sent for igniting passion and fire The twelve red rose Sent for hoping I’m your desire Barry A. Lanier
April 27, 2010

I Like Being A Woman

I like being a Woman. Why? I can cry. I can hug. I can talk to friends I can be soft. I can be strong. I can wear my heart on my sleeve. I can smell pretty. I can sweat. I can take joy in the feel of cashmere. I can romp around in jeans. I can cook. I can not feel like cooking. I can get teary eyed over a movie. I can defend what is right. I can help others. I can offer a hand to a child. I can wear my hair up. I can let it flow loosely in the wind. I can wear long flowing skirts in the summer. I can walk barefoot in the grass. I can paint my nails lovely colors. I can use my hands to fix and mend. I can take pleasure in the richness of lipstick. I can know who I am without lipstick. I can be insecure. I can be most confident. I can revel in a bubble bath. I can check my own oil. I can take pleasure in feeling feminine. I can take pleasure in feeling masculine. I can exercise my right to vote. I can stand up and make a difference. I can create- a poem, a book, a song…. and LIFE. © Ellen M. DuBois Lily
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