Wednesday, March 31, 2010


Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer’s day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze, Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can’t forget.
Like the strangers that you’ve met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they’re not listening still.
Perhaps they never will


Drop your silver in my tambourine.
Help a poor man fill his pretty dream.
Give me pennies, I’ll take anything.
Now listen while I play my green tambourine.

Watch the jingle jangle start to shine,
Reflections of the music that is mine.
When you toss a coin, you’ll hear it sing.
Now listen while I play my green tambourine.

Drop a dime before I walk away.
Any song you want, I’ll gladly play.
Money feeds my music machine.
Now listen while I play my green tambourine.

YELLOW SUBMARINE by the Beatles...

In the town where I was born,
Lived a man who sailed to sea,
And he told us of his life,
In the land of submarines,

So we sailed on to the sun,
Till we found the sea green,
And we lived beneath the waves,
In our yellow submarine,

We all live in yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine,
We all live in yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine.

And our friends are all aboard,
Many more of them live next door,
And the band begins to play.

(Trumpets play)

We all live in yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine,
We all live in yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine.

(Full speed ahead, Mr. Barkley, full speed ahead!
Full speed over here, sir!
All together! All together!
Aye, aye, sir, fire!
Captain! Captain!)

As we live a life of ease(life of ease)
Every one of us(every one of us) has all we need,(has all we need)
Sky of blue,(sky of blue) and sea green,(sea of green)
In our yellow(In our yellow) submarine.(submarine) ( Haha! )

We all live in yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine,
We all live in yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine.


We all live in yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine,
We all live in yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine.

RAINBOW COLORS by Sharon MacDonald

A rainbow of colors,
In the light, after rain.
There are seven of them,
And, each one has a name.

Red is the first
Rainbow color in the sky.
Orange is next
Like jack-o-lantern pie.

Yellow is the third,
Lemons come to mind.
Color four is green,
Think of grassy hills to climb

Blue is color five,
Like the water in a lake
The sixth is indigo
Blue-gray blends that you can make.

Violet is the color
Of the last rainbow band.
Violet is flowery;
Like the pedals in your hand.

So, wave your arms above you
Cast your colors high
And, try to make a rainbow
Across a cloudy sky

COLOR OF THE EARTH by Charlene Russ

It is known well the feeling of sadness
as the soft gray dusk wraps its arms
around the green and brown earth,
feeling the pangs of separation
from the glowing orange sun and finally seeking solace,

Yet there is a feeling of joy
across the seas when the sun and sky
gently meet the turquoise waters..

Even more vivid and brighter a mood is when,

The sun arose,
leaving the embrace of the turquoise waters
to ambitiously kiss the azure skies…
rising ever higher,
allowing the oaks and aspen to happily dance
in her golden aura.

Rising ever higher,
she never remains yet always returns with exuberance.

In her departure she leaves her beautiful sister,
the silver orb of the moon to watch over and comfort
the dark and sorrowful shining seas and dusky earth

~ Charlene Russ
As time goes on
I realize
Just what you mean
To me
And now
Now that you’re near
Promise your love
That I’ve waited to share
And dreams
Of our moments together
Color my world with hope of loving you.



I’m learning all my colors,
I’m really very smart.
I put the colors in my head,
I know them all by heart.

I’m spelling all my numbers,
It’s easy as can be.
And if I spell them all for you,
Then you’ll be smart like me!

(from a kindergarten teacher’s lesson)


What are the colors of life?
Could be black for the endless strife.
Red symbolizes the color of the heart,
Where cupid strikes with his tameless dart.
The sky may be blue, maybe gray,
Shows how life can change day by day.
Yellow in sunlight & spring flowers,
I bask in them, hour upon hour.
Green as the emerald sea,
Brings peace of mind & tranquility.
Angels with wings of white,
Lift me off my feet to flight.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

WHEN YOU THOUGHT I WASN'T LOOKING..(not written by me)

When you thought I wasn’t looking

Author: Unknown

When you thought I wasn’t looking,
I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator,
and I wanted to paint another one.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,
I saw you feed a stray cat,
and I thought it was good to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,
I saw you make my favorite cake for me,
and I knew that little things are special things.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,
I heard you say a prayer,
and I believed that there was a God to talk to.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,
I felt you kiss me goodnight,
and I felt loved.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,
I saw tears come from your eyes,
and I learned that sometimes things hurt,
but it’s alright to cry.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,
I saw that you cared,
and I wanted to be everything that I could be.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,
I looked….
and I wanted to say thanks for all the things
I saw when you thought I wasn’t looking.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010


The Little Plant

In the heart of a seed,
Buried deep so deep,
A tiny plant
Lay fast asleep.
“Wake,” said the sunshine,
“And creep to the light.”
“Wake,” said the voice
Of the raindrops bright.
The little plant heard
And it rose to see,
What the wonderful,
Outside world might be.

Little Brown Seeds

Little brown seeds so small and round,
Are sleeping quietly under ground.
Down come the raindrops
sprinkle, sprinkle, sprinkle.
Out comes the rainbow,
twinkle, twinkle, twinkle.
Little brown seeds way down below,
Up through the earth they grow, grow, grow.
Little green leaves come one by one.
They hold up their heads and look at the sun.

One Vast Garden

“I find one vast garden spread out all over the universe.

All plants, all human beings, all higher mind bodies

are about in this garden in various ways ,

each has his own uniqueness and beauty.

Their presence and variety give me great delight.

Every one of you adds with his special feature to the glory of the garden."

By: Sri Ananandamayi Ma

A little seed for me to sow
A little earth to make it grow
A little hole, a little pat,
A little wish, and that is that,
A little sun, a little shower.
A little while – And then, a flower!

In the corner of his garden, there’s a patch he used to keep
All to himself, to allow nature to creep
There are no trimmed edges
or prim, proper hedges
He left his earth still and alone
Allowed the forces of nature to roam
He said that you don’t always have to be tidy and neat
Just watch the beauty of opportunity grow at your feet
He said just watch the earth produce its own glory
And I watched…and held on to his story
My grandad was right
Add water and light
Behold the sight
There are poppies and flowering weeds
Buttercups and oat coloured reeds
Daisies gingerly lift their heads
Dandelions roar from muddy beds
Purple thistles and strange grasses
Colours that alight and ignite masses
Dark ferns and heathers
Dandelion clock feathers
Birds foot trefoil, a four leafed clover
My grandad’s story is not over
He may have gone, I may have cried
But the beauty he predicted never died

Though I do not believe
that a plant will spring up
where no seed has been,
I have great faith in a seed.

Convince me that you have a seed there,
and I am prepared to expect wonders.

~ Henry David Thoreau

A Friend

A friend is like a shade tree
Beside a summer way.

A friend is like the sunshine
That makes a perfect day.

A friend is like a flower
That’s worn close to the heart.

A friend is like a treasure
With which one will not part.

If I Could…

If I could catch a rainbow
I would do it just for you
And share with you its beauty
On the days you’re feeling blue.

If I could build a mountain
You could call your very own
A place to find serenity
A place to be alone.

If I could take your troubles
I would toss them in the sea
But all these things I’m finding
Are impossible for me.

I cannot build a mountain
Or catch a rainbow fair
But let me be what I know best:
A friend that’s always there.

by Sandra Lewis Pringle

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

by Dylan Thomas

THE HEART ASKS by Emily Dickinson

The heart asks pleasure first
And then, excuse from pain;
And then those little anodynes
That deaden suffering,

And then to go to sleep
And then, if it should be,
The will of its Inquisitor
The liberty to die!

MISSING YOU..BY Valerie Ordaz

I never really loved you,
but I know that you loved me.
You always used to tell me,
but my love for you I could not see.

You wasted all your time,
and I don’t know what for.
I told you it was over,
and I walked out the door.

As I was walking down the street,
I felt something so wierd.
I felt a feeling so intense,
it was something that I feared.

I stopped and took a look around,
and nobody was there,
so I just took the liberty
to ask someone who cared.

So I looked for my angel,
and looked straight up above,
and there it was telling me
that this feeling so intense was called love.

He told me to take care of it,
and hold on to it very tight.
For this was just the feeling
that I had learned to fight.

He told me to go back,
to heal his broken heart,
and tell him that this sweet love
will never fall apart.

As soon as I got there,
nobody was home.
So I knocked a few more times,
and thought he was alone.

Everything was open,
so I walked through the door,
and saw him and a note,
lying on the floor.

It said he couldn’t go on,
that he was really scared,
that all his love had gone to waste,
that it had just been torn.

I threw myself on top of him,
and told him to wake up.
For I had just discovered,
something that was called LOVE.

That I had always loved him,
but I just never knew.
That all the time he told me,
I felt the same way too!

But I guess I got there too late
to tell him what I felt.
I knew that this would happen,
but I just didn’t know how.

My heart has been torn up,
I don’t know what to do.
To continue with my life,
or do the same thing too.

You left me all alone
with this love I feel for you.
But I know we will finish this,
cause this love was made for two!

This is sooooo sad!

Monday, March 15, 2010


I read of a reverend who stood to speak
at the funeral of his friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning…to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth
and spoke of the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on earth,
and now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own;
the cars, the house, the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard,
are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left.
(You could be at “dash mid-range.”)

If we could just slow down enough
to consider what’s true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile,
remembering that this special dash
might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read
with your life’s actions to rehash…
would you be pleased with the things they say
about how you spent your dash?


Have you ever watched kids
On a merry-go-round?

Or listened to the rain
Slapping on the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night.

You better slow down
Don’t dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won’t last.

Do you run through each day
On the fly?
When you ask How are you?
Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done
Do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores
Running through your head?

You’d better slow down
Don’t dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won’t last.

Ever told your child,
We’ll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,
Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die
Cause you never had time
To call and say,“Hi!”

You’d better slow down.
Don’t dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won’t last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift….
Thrown away.

Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.

Sunday, March 14, 2010


On the first day, God created the dog and said:

‘Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years.’

The dog said: ’That’s a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I’ll give you back the other ten?’

So God agreed.

On the second day, God created the monkey and said:

‘Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I’ll give you a twenty-year life span.’

The monkey said: ‘Monkey tricks for twenty years? That’s a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the Dog did?’

And God agreed.

On the third day, God created the cow and said:

‘You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer’s family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years.’

The cow said: ’That’s kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years… How about twenty and I’ll give back the other forty?’

And God agreed again.

On the fourth day, God created humans and said:

‘Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For this, I’ll give you twenty years.’

But the human said: ‘Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?’

‘Okay,’ said God, ‘You asked for it.’

So that is why for our first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves. For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family. For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren. And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.

Life has now been explained to you.


You are young if you:

Have turned loose of yesterday.
Enjoy today.
Anticipate tomorrow.
Look up when knocked down.
Feel there is much to learn.
Are ambitious.
Have no wrinkles on the heart.
Feel young.


If you have left your dreams behind,
If hope is cold,
If you no longer look ahead,
If your ambition’s fires are dead,

Then you are old.


Thursday, March 11, 2010


When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay.
And when Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, they steal your heart away. ♪ ♫


Women have strengths that amaze men.....

They bear hardships and they carry burdens,

but they hold happiness, love and joy.

They smile when they want to scream.

They sing when they want to cry.

They cry when they are happy

and laugh when they are nervous.

They fight for what they believe in..

They stand up to injustice.

They don't take "no" for an answer

when they believe there is a better solution.

They go without so their family can have.

They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.

They love unconditionally.

They cry when their children excel

and cheer when their friends get awards.

They are happy when they hear about

a birth or a wedding.

Their hearts break when a friend dies.

They grieve at the loss of a family member,

yet they are strong when they

think there is no strength left.

They know that a hug and a kiss

can heal a broken heart.

Women come in all shapes, sizes and colors.

They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you

to show how much they care about you.

The heart of a woman is what

makes the world keep turning.

They bring joy, hope and love.

They have compassion and ideas.

They give moral support to their

family and friends.

Women have vital things to say

and everything to give.



Thursday, March 4, 2010


If you think you are beaten, you are
If you think you dare not, you don’t
If you’d like to win,but think you can’t
It is almost a cinch you won’t
If you think you’ll lose…you’re lost
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a persons will
Its all in a state of mind
Lifes battles don’t always go
to the stronger or faster hand
But sooner or later..the person who wins
Is the one whos thinks “I can”

Wednesday, March 3, 2010


1. Your thumb is nearest you. So begin your prayers by praying for those closest to you. They are the easiest to remember. To pray for our loved ones is, as C. S. Lewis once said, a “sweet duty.”

2. The next finger is the pointing finger. Pray for those who teach, instruct and heal. This includes teachers, doctors, and ministers. They need support and wisdom in pointing others in the right direction. Keep them in your prayers…

3. The next finger is the tallest finger. It reminds us of our leaders. Pray for the president no matter how you voted, leaders in business and industry, and administrators. These people shape our nation and guide public opinion. They need God’s guidance.

4. The fourth finger is our ring finger. Surprising to many is the fact that this is our weakest finger, as any piano teacher will testify. It should remind us to pray for those who are weak, in trouble or in pain. They need your prayers day and night. You cannot pray too much for them.

5.. And lastly comes our little finger – the smallest finger of all which is where we should place ourselves in relation to God and others. As the Bible says, “The least shall be the greatest among you.” Your pinkie should remind you to pray for yourself. By the time you have prayed for the other four groups, your own needs will be put into proper perspective and you will be able to pray for yourself more effectively.
May love and laughter light your days,
and warm your heart and home.
May good and faithful friends be yours,
wherever you may roam.
May peace and plenty bless your world
with joy that long endures.
May all life’s passing seasons
bring the best to you and yours!

May your joys be as bright as the morning,

And your sorrows merely be shadows that fade,

In the sunlight of love.

May you have enough

happiness to keep you sweet.

Enough trials to keep you strong.

Enough sorrows to keep you human.

Enough hope to keep you happy.

Enough failure to keep you humble.

Enough success to keep you eager.

Enough friends to give you comfort.

Enough faith and courage in yourself to banish sadness.

Enough wealth to meet your needs.

And one thing more: enough

determination to make each day a more wonderful day

than the day before.

Monday, March 1, 2010


When March comes in like a lion, it goes out like a lamb’ goes the old folklore saying‥The reverse, however, is also true, and the saying continues: ‘When March comes in like a lamb, it goes out like a lion,’ which does not bode well for us this year.

“The afternoon is bright,
with spring in the air,
a mild March afternoon,
with the breath of April stirring,
I am alone in the quiet patio
looking for some old untried illusion -
some shadow on the whiteness of the wall
some memory asleep
on the stone rim of the fountain,
perhaps in the air
the light swish of some trailing gown

“March is the month of expectation,
The things we do not know

“Ere frost-flower and snow-blossom faded and fell,
and the splendor of winter had passed out of sight,
The ways of the woodlands were fairer and stranger
than dreams that fulfill us in sleep with delight;
The breath of the mouths of the winds had hardened on tree-tops
and branches that glittered and swayed
Such wonders and glories of blossom like snow
or of frost that outlightens all flowers till it fade
That the sea was not lovelier than here was the land,
nor the night than the day, nor the day than the night,
Nor the winter sublimer with storm than the spring:
such mirth had the madness and might in thee made,
March, master of winds, bright minstrel and marshal of storms
that enkindle the season they smite.”
- Algernon C. Swinburne, March: An Ode

“A light exists in Spring
Not present in the year
at any other period
When March is scarcely here.”
- Emily Dickinson

“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer
in the light, and winter in the shade.”
- Charles Dickens

Springtime is the land awakening.
The March winds are the morning yawn.”
- Lewis Grizzard, Kathy Sue Loudermilk, I Love You

That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty.”
- William Shakespeare

“Winds of March, we welcome you,
There is work for you to do.
Work and play and blow all day,
Blow the Winter wind away

“March bustles in on windy feet
And sweeps my doorstep and my street.
She washes and cleans with pounding rains,
Scrubbing the earth of winter stains.
She shakes the grime from carpet green
Till naught but fresh new blades are seen.
Then, house in order, all neat as a pin,
She ushers gentle springtime in.”
- Susan Reiner, Spring Cleaning

“March! March! March! They are coming
In troops to the tune of the wind.
Redheaded woodpeckers drumming,
Gold – crested thrushes behind;
Sparrows in brown jackets, hopping
Past every gateway and door;
Finches, with crimson caps, stopping
Just where they stopped before.
March! March! March! They are slipping
Into their places at last. . .
Literature white lily buds, dripping
Under the showers that fall fast;
Buttercups, violets, roses;
Snowdrop and bluebell and pink,
Throng upon throng of sweet posies
Bending the dewdrops to drink.
March! March! March! They will hurry
Forth at the wild bugle sound,
Blossoms and birds in a flurry,
Fluttering all over the ground.
Shake out your flags, birch and willow!
Shake out your red tassels, larch!
Grass blades, up from your earth – pillow.
Hear who is calling you. . . March.”
- Lucy Larcom, March

The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You’re one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you’re two months back in the middle of March.”
- Robert Frost, Two Tramps in Mud Time

“I have said that there was great pleasure in watching the ways in which different plants come through
the ground, and February and March are the months in which that can best be seen.”
- Henry N. Ellacombe

“March is a tomboy with tousled hair, a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes
and a laugh in her voice.”
- Hal Borland

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.
Robert Frost

In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash’d
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich
with many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I
With every leaf a miracle – and from this bush in the dooryard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
- Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1865

Sonnet 98 by William Shakespeare (1609)

From you have I been absent in the spring
When proud-pied April, dress’d in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
That heavy Saturn laugh’d and leap’d with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odour and in hue,
Could make me any summer’s story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seem’d it winter still, and you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.

And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
~Percy Bysshe Shelley, “The Sensitive Plant

‘For behold, the winter is past,
The rain is over and gone.
’The flowers have already appeared in the land;
The time has arrived for pruning the vines,
And the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land.
’The fig tree has ripened its figs,
And the vines in blossom have given forth their fragrance.
Arise, my darling, my beautiful one,
And come along!’ "
Song 2:11-13 (NASB

Emily Dickinson

A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period —
When March is scarcely here

A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.

It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.

Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay —

A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.


Emily Dickinson

A little madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King,
But God be with the Clown —
Who ponders this tremendous scene —
This whole Experiment of Green —
As if it were his own!

All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first day of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel its energy, and my spirits soar. ~ Helen Hayes

Roberts, Charles G. D. (1860-1943)

DID Winter, letting fall in vain regret
A tear among the tender leaves of May,
Embalm the tribute, lest she might forget,
In this elect, imperishable way?

Or did the virgin Spring sweet vigil keep
In the white radiance of the midnight hour,
And whisper to the unwondering ear of Sleep
Some shy desire that turned into flower?


I could walk around the yard barefoot in safety.
My house could be carpeted instead of tiled and laminated.

All flat surfaces, clothing, furniture & cars would be free of hair.
When the doorbell rings, it wouldn’t sound like a kennel.

When the doorbell rings, I could get to the door without
wading through fuzzy bodies who beat me there.

I could sit on the couch and my bed the way I wanted,
without taking into consideration how much space
Several fur bodies would need to get comfortable.

I would have money & no guilt to go on a real vacation.

I would not be on a first-name basis with numerous veterinarians, as I put their yet unborn grandkids through college.

The most used words in my vocabulary would not be:out,sit, down, come, no, stay,& leave him/her/it ALONE.

My house would not be cordoned off into zones with
baby gates or barriers.

My house would not look like a day care center,
with toys everywhere.

My pockets would not contain things like poop bags,
treats and an extra leash.

I would no longer have to spell the words B-A-L-L,
F-R-I-S-B-E-E, W-A-L-K, T-R-E-A-T, R-I-D-E, GO

I would not have as many leaves INSIDE my house as outside.

I would not look strangely at people who think having ONE dog/cat ties them down too much.

I’d look forward to spring and the rainy season instead of dreading ‘mud’ season.

I would not have to answer the question ‘Why do you have so many animals?’ from people who will never have the joy in their lives of knowing they are loved unconditionally by someone as close to an angel as they will ever get.

How EMPTY my life would be!!!


If one picks up a starving dog and makes him prosperous he will not bite you ..this is the principal difference between a dog and a man...Mark Twain