January 18, 2011

Smiles

What makes you smile so big and wide is it when granny takes you into her arms and holds you ever so tightly against her. Maybe its when she checks that diaper and makes a funny face looking down at you saying oh my i smell something down there.Or just maybe its when she changes that stinky diaper and give you a fresh bottle of milk and tucks a nice fuzzy warm blanket around you and rocks you to sleep sounds good to me. i enjoy teasing my little ones because they are funny and ever so cute to watch. But then again never know what granny might have up her sleeve she is always thinking of something she can dress you up in as you know she loves her sissy boys. Lily 1-888-430-2010
December 20, 2010

Bells Across the Snow

First pupil: Christmas, merry Christmas! Is it really come again? With its memories and greetings, With its joys and with its pain There’s a minor in the carol, And a shadow in the light, And a spray of cypress twining With the holly wreath tonight. And the hush is never broken By laughter, light and low, As we listen in the starlight To the “bells across the snow.” Second pupil: Christmas, merry Christmas! ‘Tis not so very long Since other voices blended With the carol and the song! If we could but hear them singing As they are singing now, If we could but see the radiance Of the crown on each dear brow; There would be no sigh to smother, No hidden tear to flow, As we listen in the starlight To the “bells across the snow.” Third pupil: O Christmas, merry Christmas! This never more can be; We cannot bring again the days Of our unshadowed glee. But Christmas, happy Christmas, Sweet herald of good will, With holy songs of glory, Brings holy gladness still. For peace and hope may brighten, And patient love may glow, As we listen in the starlight To the “bells across the snow.” —F.R. Havergal Lily
October 18, 2010

A Boy Named Sue

Well, my daddy left home when I was three, and he didn’t leave much to Ma and me, just this old guitar and a bottle of booze. Now I don’t blame him because he run and hid, but the meanest thing that he ever did was before he left he went and named me Sue. Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke, and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks, it seems I had to fight my whole life through. Some gal would giggle and I’d get red and some guy would laugh and I’d bust his head, I tell you, life ain’t easy for a boy named Sue. Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean. My fist got hard and my wits got keen. Roamed from town to town to hide my shame, but I made me a vow to the moon and the stars, I’d search the honky tonks and bars and kill that man that gave me that awful name. But it was Gatlinburg in mid July and I had just hit town and my throat was dry. I’d thought i’d stop and have myself a brew. At an old saloon in a street of mud and at a table dealing stud sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me Sue. Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad from a worn-out picture that my mother had and I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye. He was big and bent and gray and old and I looked at him and my blood ran cold, and I said, “My name is Sue. How do you do? Now you’re gonna die.” Yeah, that’s what I told him. Well, I hit him right between the eyes and he went down but to my surprise he came up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear. But I busted a chair right across his teeth. And we crashed through the wall and into the street kicking and a-gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer. I tell you I’ve fought tougher men but I really can’t remember when. He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile. I heard him laughin’ and then I heard him cussin’, he went for his gun and I pulled mine first. He stood there looking at me and I saw him smile. And he said, “Son, this world is rough and if a man’s gonna make it, he’s gotta be tough and I knew I wouldn’t be there to help you along. So I gave you that name and I said ‘Goodbye’. I knew you’d have to get tough or die. And it’s that name that helped to make you strong.” Yeah, he said, “Now you have just fought one helluva fight, and I know you hate me and you’ve got the right to kill me now and I wouldn’t blame you if you do. But you ought to thank me before I die for the gravel in your guts and the spit in your eye because I’m the nut that named you Sue.” Yeah, what could I do? What could I do? I got all choked up and I threw down my gun, called him pa and he called me a son, and I came away with a different point of view and I think about him now and then. Every time I tried, every time I win and if I ever have a son I think I am gonna name him Bill […]
September 21, 2010

One Inch Tall

If you were only one inch tall, you’d ride a worm to school. The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool. A crumb of cake would be a feast And last you seven days at least, A flea would be a frightening beast If you were one inch tall. If you were only one inch tall, you’d walk beneath the door, And it would take about a month to get down to the store. A bit of fluff would be your bed, You’d swing upon a spider’s thread, And wear a thimble on your head If you were one inch tall. You’d surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum. You couldn’t hug your mama, you’d just have to hug her thumb. You’d run from people’s feet in fright, To move a pen would take all night, (This poem took fourteen years to write– ‘Cause I’m just one inch tall). by Shel Silverstein Lily
August 31, 2010

My Dream (A Vision Of Peace)

Where the mountains touch the sky Where poets DREAM, where eagles fly A secret place above the crowd Just beneath a silver-lined cloud. Lift your eyes to a snowy peak And see the soon-to-be we seek Whisper DREAMS and let them rise To the mountains old and wise. Climbers climb, it’s time to try Where the mountains touch the sky Take me there. Oh take me now… Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow! Where the ocean meets the sky Where dolphin dance and seagulls fly A place in DREAMS, I know so well The sea inside a single shell. Far across the living sea A pale blue possibility Beyond the castles made of sand Tomorrow in a small child’s hand. Only DREAMERS need apply Where the ocean meets the sky Take me there. Oh take me now… Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow. A common ground for one and all Behind the crystal waterfall Where Peace flows like a mighty stream Like Dr. King I have a DREAM. Imagine such a goal in sight For red and yellow, black and white New Delhi, Peking, Kenya, Rome Earth is the place that we call home. Baghdad, Bangkok, Tel Aviv One race HUMAN, we still believe It matters what we say and do This DREAM is ME, this DREAM is YOU! When walls of hate have fallen fast When prejudice has long since passed When last is first and first is last Come DREAM with me Where the forest reach the sky Wake up and DREAM and don’t be shy. No thorns of war, a perfect rose This is where Gandhi’s DREAM grows Whisper now; let the DREAM begin It’s time to trust the truth within. This is where we seek and find A gift in being colorblind DREAM on DREAMERS, hopes are high Where the forest reach the sky. Take me there. Oh take me now Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow. Now, listen close, the future calls… Build your bridges and tear down walls! For time has taught and so it seems Realities are born of DREAMS! Blessed are the peacemakers… Silvie
August 23, 2010

Qui Jun and the Arrogant Monk

There once lived a monk called Shan, in a village in China. He had earned a great name for himself. But he was very arrogant. Qui Jun heard of his arrogance and wanted to teach the monk a lesson. He went to meet Shan who neither greeted him nor acknowledged his presence. Just then a servant of the monk came with a message: “The son of an army officer is here to see you.” The monk said, “I will go and greet him.” Shan welcomed the son of the army officer with respect. After the army officer’s son had departed Qui Jun asked Shan the reason for his double-faced behaviour. “Why is it that you greeted the army officer’s son so respectfully, yet behaved so arrogantly towards me?” Shan the Monk had a quick reply: “Please don’t get me wrong. For me greeting meansnot greeting and not greeting means greeting.” Qui Jun understood the monk’s mischief and hit him hard on his head with his stick. “According to your logic, beating you means not beating and not beating you means beating. Therefore, I have to give you a beating,” said Qui Jun. Shan immediately realised the folly of his actions and started showing respect to everyone he met, irrespective of their status. lily
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.
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