My Mom

My mom was the one who was busy sewing us new clothes to wear, making us delicious meals to eat including the one where she just threw stuff together and called it a “Hupe Special!” Sometimes they were just delicious, too! She is the one who patiently made me ride my 2-wheel bike back and forth on the sidewalk in front of our house so I would finally learn how to get started on my own. I mastered “riding” the bike long before I mastered being able to start without someone holding the seat! (Thank goodness for nice neighbors who would help me if fell or had to stop for some reason! LOL!) My mom helped my sisters and I all learn how to sew our own clothes, too. She must have been patient to do that! LOL! She instilled in me a love of classical music through hearing it on the stereo and from taking piano lessons. I enjoy playing my piano, although, I can’t always say I liked practicing my lessons!

The Night Before Easter

‘Twas the night before Easter. All was calm and laid back.
Fred, the mouse in the kitchen, snarfed down a late snack.
The eggs were all dyed but still drippy and sticky…
To be honest, they looked just a little bit icky.Easter Humor, Poem, Easter Bunny, Twas the Night before Chirstmas(pixel.gif – 0.04 K)

There were big jelly beans, chocolate bunnies and such,
And as Fred stuffed his face, he sighed, “This is too much!”
Phil and Rose were in bed watching late night TV,
While munching saltines with low-sodium Brie.

Then a sudden commotion rang out in the night.
It shook Phil and Rose, really gave them a fright.
Phil’s hair stood on end, and his eyes bugged out big…
Rose whipped off the covers and knocked off her wig.Easter Humor, Poem, Easter Bunny, Twas the Night before Chirstmas(pixel.gif – 0.04 K)

They lunged to the window, yanked open the blinds…
What they saw was amazing; it boggled their minds:
Across the night sky, with a noise like the dickens,
Soared a minivan drawn by eight overgrown chickens!

At the wheel sat a bunny — cute, fuzzy and fat –
In designer blue jeans and a Panama hat.
Like a speeding space shuttle, those chickens they flew,
As the van driver called to each hen in his crew:Easter Humor, Poem, Easter Bunny, Twas the Night before Chirstmas(pixel.gif – 0.04 K)

“Now, Ashley! Now, Sheila! Now, Kelsey and Bo!
On Bethany, Liza! On Daphne, on Flo!”
The van made its landing lickety-split …
Nearly wiped out the shrubs and the barbecue pit!

Then up on the roof, much to Phil’s consternation,
They squawked of egg prices and space navigation.
They made so much noise that Phil started to stammer,
“If you guys don’t shut up, we’ll get thrown in the slammer!”

Fuzzy hopped down the chimney, amidst all this racket,
And emerged from the fireplace, adjusting his jacket.
This bunny was chic, he had class, he had flair ..
Not your average bozo, not your typical hare.Easter Humor, Poem, Easter Bunny, Twas the Night before Chirstmas(pixel.gif – 0.04 K)

His ears were enormous; his huge overbite
Was right under a nose like a pink neon light.
His manner was smooth, he was hip, he was cool;
This floppy-eared bunny was no fuzzy fool.

“While I’m here,” he smiled, “Everybody relaxes …
I’m not selling storm windows, won’t audit your taxes.
I’m just here to bring you some fun and delight.
Eat, drink, and be merry! Let’s party tonight!”

So they sipped diet soda and swapped silly jokes,
Those birds and their bunny just being plain folks.
Then flop-ears said, “Hey, friends, we’ve had quite a ball,
But my chickens and I are now due in St. Paul!”Easter Humor, Poem, Easter Bunny, Twas the Night before Chirstmas(pixel.gif – 0.04 K)

He crossed both his eyes. Then he wiggled one ear,
And he yelled to his chicken team, “We’re outta here!”
As the minivan rose in the 3 a.m. sky,
He called out, “Later, Phil! And to you, Rose, good-bye!”

As he sped out of sight, his two friends heard him say,
“Happy Easter to all! Have a beautiful day!”

Valentine’s day- Heart Puzzle

“Heard” The Love

When I was growing up I do not recall hearing the words “I love you” from
my father. When your father never says them to you when you are a child, it
gets tougher and tougher for him to say those words as he gets older. To
tell the truth, I could not honestly remember when I had last said those
words to him either.

I decided to set my ego aside and make the first move. After some
hesitation, in our next phone conversation I blurted out the words, “Dad .
. . I love you!” There was a silence at the other end and he awkwardly
replied, “Well, same back at ya!” I chuckled and said, “Dad, I know you
love me, and when you are ready, I know you will say what you want to say.”

Fifteen minutes later my mother called and nervously asked, “Paul, is
everything okay?” A few weeks later, Dad concluded our phone conversation
with the words, “Paul, I love you.” I was at work during this conversation
and the tears were rolling down my cheeks as I finally “heard” the love. As
we both sat there in tears we realized that this special moment had taken
our father/son relationship to a new level.

A short while after this special moment, my father narrowly escaped death
following heart surgery. Many times since, I have pondered the thought, If
I did not take the first step and Dad did not survive the surgery, I would
have never “heard” the love.

By Paul Barton from “A Cup of Chicken Soup for the Soul” Copyright 1996 by
Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Barry Spilchuk

Love Is…

Love is an emotion of many colors.
It’s every color of the rainbow’s hue.
It makes the grass a little greener
And the sky the most beautiful blue.

It makes my sun rise every morning…
Chasing moonbeams on its way.
It makes me happy to face the trials of another day.

It cares for me in times of pain.
It holds and caresses me again and again.
It’s my anchor in life’s ocean of storms…
And every day I wake to the joy of living…
Because I have your love to keep me warm.

This is dedicated to all the people in my life…
who made my life…for without them…
I would not have had a life.
I Love You.
There is not a single person that I have
ever known…
that I can’t remember the good in them.

Happy Valentine’s Day
All you good people!

The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd

by Sir Walter Raleigh

If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd’s tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy’s spring, but sorrow’s fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten
In folly ripe, in season rotten.

Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.

But could youth last and love still breed,
Had joys no date nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.

Camomile Tea

by Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923)

Outside the sky is light with stars;
There’s a hollow roaring from the sea.
And, alas! for the little almond flowers,
The wind is shaking the almond tree.

How little I thought, a year ago,
In the horrible cottage upon the Lee
That he and I should be sitting so
And sipping a cup of camomile tea.

Light as feathers the witches fly,
The horn of the moon is plain to see;
By a firefly under a jonquil flower
A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.

We might be fifty, we might be five,
So snug, so compact, so wise are we!
Under the kitchen-table leg
My knee is pressing against his knee.

Our shutters are shut, the fire is low,
The tap is dripping peacefully;
The saucepan shadows on the wall
Are black and round and plain to see.

The Lost Thrill

by James Whitcomb Riley

I grow so weary, someway, of all things
That love and loving have vouchsafed to me,
Since now all dreamed-of sweets of ecstasy
Am I possessed of: The caress that clings
The lips that mix with mine with murmurings
No language may interpret, and the free,
Unfettered brood of kisses, hungrily
Feasting in swarms on honeyed blossomings
Of passion’s fullest flower For yet I miss
The essence that alone makes love divine
The subtle flavoring no tang of this
Weak wine of melody may here define:
A something found and lost in the first kiss
A lover ever poured through lips of mine.

When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be

by John Keats (1795 – 1821)

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripen’d grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;–then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast as Thou Art

by John Keats (1795 – 1821)

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature’s patient sleepless eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors;
No yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever or else swoon to death.

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