You.Are.AmazingYou.Are.Amazing.As.You.Are.
Stronger than you know. More beautiful than you think. Worthier than you believe. More loved than you can ever imagine. Passionate about making a difference. Fiery when protecting those you love. Learning. Growing. Not alone. Warm. Giving. Generous. Quirky. Sexy. Funny. Smart. Flawed. Whole. Scared. Brave. And so, so, so.much.more. Be Strong. Be Confident. Be You. “Copyright: Tia Sparkles Singh, 2011 http://www.yourlifeyourway.net“ |
Dear Ancestor
"Your tombstone stands among the rest;
neglected and alone. The name and date are chiseled out on polished, marbled stone. It reaches out to all who care. It is too late to mourn. You did not know that I’d exist. You died, and I was born. Yet each of us are cells of you in flesh, in blood, in bone. Our blood contracts and beats a pulse entirely not our own. Dear Ancestor, the place you filled one hundred years ago spreads out among the ones you left who would have loved you so. I wonder if you lived and loved, I wonder if you knew That someday I would find this spot, and come to visit you." |
Memories of YouI remember everything about you,
your voice, you smile, your touch, the way you walked, the way you talked, the way you looked at me, meant so much. I remember all the words you said to me, some funny, some kind, some wise, all of the things you did for me, I see now with different eyes. I remember every moment we shared, seems like only yesterday, or maybe it was eons ago, It's really hard to say. You are gone from me now, but one they can't take away, your memory resides inside my heart, and lights up my darkest days... ~Unknown |
Article from a newspaper:I call home and a recording says
the number is no longer in service. I want to know you're at home and everything is all right, but it's not. I'm empty, hollow, depressed. You were our home, You were the family, You were Christmas, You kept us together. We've all flown apart. Time as they say does not heal all wounds. ~Unknown |
Playtex Woman
What with middle age spread And the force of gravity Time has played havoc With my once sylph like body My hour glass figure is no more Alas it’s more like a barometer case And my “cross your heart” bra Is more of a “cross your waist” |
Body Image
I am not perfect My figure is not the best Some bits I really hate But I do quite like my breasts I have flabby thighs, Which I would happily condemn But fortunately my stomach Obscures the view of them |
The above poems are from: http://www.peculiar-poetry.com/paul-curtis/age/growing-old/
A Grandmother's Prayer
Author: Barbara Burrows ... Submitted by: Ladybeth
from: http://www.scrapbook.com/poems/doc/10830/221.html
Oh Lord, I do not ask for much,
Eternal beauty, or youth, or such.
Just give me a little hand to hold,
And I'll forget that I'm growing old.
I do not ask for cloudless skies,
A life that's free from tears and sighs.
Just give me a little face to kiss,
And anxious moments will turn to bliss.
For what is there, really, that means so much
As little hands that reach and touch,
As little eyes that search and see
Only the best in fragile me?
So let me grow more loving and wise
By looking at life through their wide eyes.
For through these little ones, you have given
This grateful grandmother a glimpse of Heaven.
from: http://www.scrapbook.com/poems/doc/10830/221.html
Oh Lord, I do not ask for much,
Eternal beauty, or youth, or such.
Just give me a little hand to hold,
And I'll forget that I'm growing old.
I do not ask for cloudless skies,
A life that's free from tears and sighs.
Just give me a little face to kiss,
And anxious moments will turn to bliss.
For what is there, really, that means so much
As little hands that reach and touch,
As little eyes that search and see
Only the best in fragile me?
So let me grow more loving and wise
By looking at life through their wide eyes.
For through these little ones, you have given
This grateful grandmother a glimpse of Heaven.
I Love Council BluffsI love the name of Council Bluffs,
The glamour of her splendid past, Her legends all in romance cast, Her friendships that forever last, I love the name of Council Bluffs. I love the scenes of Council Bluffs, Her winding streets and gorgeous drives Where every whim of nature thrives, And offers rest to tired lives. I love the streets of Council Bluffs. I love the hills of Council Bluffs, Those rugged hills that seem to stand, As sentinels of all that's grand, Our better natures to expand, I love the hills of Council Bluffs. I love the glens of Council Bluffs, Their terraced gardens trim and clean, Detached from all that's course or mean, They seem so tranquil and serene, I love the glens of Council Bluffs. I love the parks of Council Bluffs, Their sylvan shades impartial call, Intriguing welcomes to us all, Resistless summer, spring or fall, I love the parks of Council Bluffs. I love the homes of Council Bluffs, The homes where love and laughter reign, Where parenthood and childhood gain, So much joy - though some of pain, I love the homes of Council Bluffs. I love the schools of Council Bluffs, Where patient teachers seek to show Our striving youth the way to go That they the worthwhile life may know, I love the schools of Council Bluffs. I love the life of Council Bluffs, We are not long on useless frills, Nor feel ourselves above the ills, Of those whose burden almost kills, I love the life of Council Bluffs. ~Author unknown, submitted byAnn http://genealogytrails.com/iowa/pottawattamie/cbhist.htm |
In Council BluffsThe streets run this way, then run that way
In Council Bluffs; A stranger can't tell where he's at, In Council Bluffs, Unless he asks a bluecoat kind, And they are mighty hard to find, In Council Bluffs. The hills run this way, then run that way In Council Bluffs; A man needs claws just like a cat, In Council Bluffs, If he would get around the town Without a lot of tumbling down, In Council Bluffs. The men walk this way, then walk that way In Council Bluffs; When they go out upon a bat, In Council Bluffs; But when the night grows late and dark They all can sleep in Bayliss park, In Council Bluffs. The girls look this way, then look that way In Council Bluffs; And some are lean and some are fat, In Council Bluffs; But, lean or fat or short or tall, They're pretty and we love'em all, In Council Bluffs. By: Will Reed Dunroy Camp Dodge, August17, 1901. Nonpareil, Council Bluffs, Iowa, Published August 21, 1901] Submitted by Ann http://genealogytrails.com/iowa/pottawattamie/cbhist.htm |
Dare to Be
When a new day begins, dare to smile gratefully.
When there is darkness, dare to be the first to shine a light.
When there is injustice, dare to be the first to condemn it.
When something seems difficult, dare to do it anyway.
When life seems to beat you down, dare to fight back.
When there seems to be no hope, dare to find some.
When you’re feeling tired, dare to keep going.
When times are tough, dare to be tougher.
When love hurts you, dare to love again.
When someone is hurting, dare to help them heal.
When another is lost, dare to help them find the way.
When a friend falls, dare to be the first to extend a hand.
When you cross paths with another, dare to make them smile.
When you feel great, dare to help someone else feel great too.
When the day has ended, dare to feel as you’ve done your best.
Dare to be the best you can –
At all times, Dare to be!
~Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free
When there is darkness, dare to be the first to shine a light.
When there is injustice, dare to be the first to condemn it.
When something seems difficult, dare to do it anyway.
When life seems to beat you down, dare to fight back.
When there seems to be no hope, dare to find some.
When you’re feeling tired, dare to keep going.
When times are tough, dare to be tougher.
When love hurts you, dare to love again.
When someone is hurting, dare to help them heal.
When another is lost, dare to help them find the way.
When a friend falls, dare to be the first to extend a hand.
When you cross paths with another, dare to make them smile.
When you feel great, dare to help someone else feel great too.
When the day has ended, dare to feel as you’ve done your best.
Dare to be the best you can –
At all times, Dare to be!
~Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free
October's PartyOctober gave a party;
The leaves by hundreds came - The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples, And leaves of every name. The Sunshine spread a carpet, And everything was grand, Miss Weather led the dancing, Professor Wind the band. ~George Cooper ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Come said the wind to the leaves one day, Come o're the meadows and we will play. Put on your dresses scarlet and gold, For summer is gone and the days grow cold." ~ A Children's Song of the 1880's |
Gathering LeavesSpades take up leaves
No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons. I make a great noise Of rustling all day Like rabbit and deer Running away. But the mountains I raise Elude my embrace, Flowing over my arms And into my face. I may load and unload Again and again Till I fill the whole shed, And what have I then? Next to nothing for weight, And since they grew duller From contact with earth, Next to nothing for color. Next to nothing for use. But a crop is a crop, And who's to say where The harvest shall stop?” ~ Robert Frost |
I forgive you. Please forgive me.
Who could imagine that three little words could have such tremendous power.
That these words, backed with a deep heartfelt sincerity, could bring the strongest of men to their knees.
That you can set free a person that has long been a slave to their own suffering. ~Ian Paul Marshall
Who could imagine that three little words could have such tremendous power.
That these words, backed with a deep heartfelt sincerity, could bring the strongest of men to their knees.
That you can set free a person that has long been a slave to their own suffering. ~Ian Paul Marshall
THE RAGGEDY MANO The Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa;
An' he's the goodest man ever you saw! He comes to our house every day, An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay; An' he opens the shed - an' we all ist laugh When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf; An' nen - ef our hired girl says he can - He milks the cow fer 'Lizabuth Ann. - Ain't he a' awful good Raggedy Man? Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! W'y, the Raggedy Man -he's ist so good, He splits the kindlin'4 an' chops the wood; An' nen he spades in our garden, too, An' does most things 'at boys can't do. - He clumbed clean up in our big tree An' shooked a' apple6 down fer me - An' 'nother 'n' too, fer 'Lizabuth Ann - An' 'nuther 'n' too, fer The Raggedy Man. - Ain't he a' awful kind Raggedy Man? Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! An' The Raggedy Man one time say he, Pick' roast' rambos from a' orchurd-tree, An' et 'em - all ist roast' an hot! - An' it's so, too! - 'cause a corn-crib got Afire one time an' all burn' down On "The Smoot Farm," 'bout four mile from town - On "The Smoot Farm"! Yes - an' the hired han' 'At worked there nen 'uz The Raggedy Man! - Ain't he the beatin'est Raggedy Man? Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! The Raggedy Man's so good an' kind He'll be our "horsey," an "haw" an' mind Ever'thing 'at you make him do - An' won't run off - 'less you want him to! I drived him wunst way down our lane An' he got skeered, when it 'menced to rain, An' ist rared up an' squealed and run Purt' nigh away! - an' it's all in fun! Nene he skeered ag'in at a' old tin can... Whoa! y' old runaway Raggedy Man! Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! An' The Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes, An' tells 'em, ef I be good, sometimes: Knows 'bout Giunts, an' Griffuns, an' Elves, An' the Squidgicum-Squees 'at swallers the'rselves: An', rite by the pump in our pasture-lot, He showed me the hole 'at the Wunks is got, 'At lives 'way deep in the ground, an' can Turn into me, er 'Lizabeth Ann! Er Ma, er Pa, er The Raggedy Man! Ain't he a funny old Raggedy Man? Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! An' wunst, when The Raggedy Man come late, An' pigs ist root' thru the garden-gate, He 'tend like the pigs 'uz bears an' said, "Old Bear-shooter'll shoot 'em dead!" An' race' an' chase' 'em, an' they'd ist run When he pint his hoe at 'em like it's a gun An' go "Bang!-Bang!" nen 'tend he stan' An' load up his gun ag'in! Raggedy Man! He's an old Bear-Shooter Raggedy Man! Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! An' sometimes The Raggedy Man lets on We're little prince-children, an' old King's gone To git more money, an' lef' us there - And Robbers is ist thick ever'where: An' nen - ef we all won't cry, fer shore - The Raggedy Man he'll come and "splore The Castul-Halls," an' steal the "gold" - An' steal us, too, an' grab an' hold An' pack us off to his old "Cave"! - An' Haymow's the "cave" o' The Raggedy Man! - Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! The Raggedy Man - one time, when he Wuz makin' a little bow-'n'-orry fer me, Says "When you're big like your Pa is, Air you go' to keep a fine store like his - An' be a rich merchunt - an' wear fine clothes? - Er what air you go' to be, goodness knows?" An' nen he laughed at 'Lizabuth Ann, An' I says "'M go' to be a nice Raggedy Man!" I'm ist go' to be a nice Raggedy Man! Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! ~James Whitcomb Riley |
. . . inscribed with all faith and affection . . .
by James Whitcomb Riley To all the little children: - The happy ones; and sad ones; The sober and the silent ones; the boisterous and glad ones; The good ones - Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely bad ones. Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay, An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away, An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep, An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board- an-keep; An' all us other childern, when the supper-things is done, We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun, A-listenin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about, An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you Ef you Don't Watch Out! Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn't say his prayers, - An' when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs, His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl, An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wuzn't there at all! An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press, An seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'-wheres, I guess; But all they ever found wuz thist his pants an' roundabout: - An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you Ef you Don't Watch Out! An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin, An' make fun of ever' one, an' all her blood-an'-kin; An' wunst, when they was "company," an' ole folks wuz there, She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care! An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide, They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side, An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'for she knowed what she's about! An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you Ef you Don't Watch Out! An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue, An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo! An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray, An' the lightnin'bugs in dew is all squenched away, - You better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond an' dear, An' cherish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear, An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about, Er the Gobble-uns 'll git you Ef you Don't Watch Out! To read more of his poetry and to learn more about James Whitcomb Riley, go here: http://www.jameswhitcombriley.com/ |
Parable of the Cautious ManThere was a very cautious man,
who never laughed or cried. He never risked, he never lost, he never won nor tried. And when he one day passed away, his insurance was denied, For since he never really lived, they claimed he never died. ~ Unknown |
WeatherWhether the weather be fine,
Whether the weather be not, Whether the weather be cold, Whether the weather be hot, We'll weather the weather, Whatever the whether, Whether we like it or not ~Author Unknown |
My Teeth In A Cup - It's the Attitudeby Charles Lane
I knew its title as "My Get Up and Go, Got Up and Went". There's nothing the matter with me, I'm just as healthy as can be, I have arthritis in both knees, And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze. My pulse is weak, my blood is thin, But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in. All my teeth have had to come out, And my diet I hate to think about. I'm overweight and I can't get thin, But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in. And arch supports I need for my feet. Or I wouldn't be able to go out in the street. Sleep is denied me night after night, But every morning I find I'm all right. My memory's failing, my head's in a spin. But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in. |
Old age is golden I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I go to bed. With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup, And my glasses on a shelf, until I get up. And when sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself, Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf? The reason I know my youth has been spent, Is my get-up-and-go has got-up-and-went! But really I don't mind, when I think with a grin, Of all the places my get-up has been. I get up each morning and dust off my wits, Pick up the paper and read the obits. If my name is missing, I'm therefore not dead, So I eat a good breakfast and jump back into bed. The moral of this as the tale unfolds, Is that for you and me, who are growing old. It is better to say "I'm fine" with a grin, Than to let people know the shape we are in. I want to thank the following website for posting this poem. http://www.seniorresource.com/attitude.htm |
SKIPPINGSkipping by the flowers,
Skipping around for hours, Skipping in rain showers - Skipping has magical powers! ~Jessi Lane Adams |
UntitledSkipping turns -
moping into hoping, pity into giddy, sad into glad, lazy into crazy, old into bold, tired into wired! ~Jessi Lane Adams |
Your tombstone stands among the rest
Neglected and alone. The name and date are chiseled out On polished, marble stone. It reaches out to all who care It is too late to mourn. You did not know that I exist You died and I was born. Yet each of us are cells of you In flesh, in blood, in bone. Our blood contracts and beats a pulse Entirely not our own. Dear Ancestor, the place you filled One hundred years ago Spread out among the ones you left Who would have loved you so. I wonder if you lived and loved, I wonder if you knew That someday I would find this spot, And come to visit you. Author Unknown |
THE DASHI read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral
of a 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....remember that this special dash might only last a while. So, when your eulogy's being read with your life's actions to rehash... would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash? Linda Ellis |
JUST BECAUSEIt’s such a warm ‘n fuzzy feeling
Whenever I think of you And all the special times we share It’s very simple, really … how You’ve made my life worth living Just because you’ve taken time to care ~nr lenz |
TODAYI'm thinking about you today
Nothing really special to say I just want you to know in the busy of life's rat race Too often I may misplace thoughts about another I hope this finds you well and you're doing really swell And hope it'll be a terrific day! ~nr lenz |
LET MELet me wrap you in my arms
No matter where or when No matter even how long Let me share heart to heart A hug with love tucked inside Our two hearts now beating Feeling like a heart-felt song A hug, from me to you ~nr larson-lenz |
ANOTHER PIECEIt's like finding lost pieces of a jig saw puzzle
Looking at my family history in photographs, Tin types, glass negatives, and old letters ... Another of life's "nuggets", turning into a "pearl" Through my curiosity and, right before my eyes Only in my imagination and what I surmise Is all the legacy I now will leave behind Too bad my elders are all gone I'd love to hear the stories I could find If only they could speak their mind ~nr larson-lenz |
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This is probably the shortest poem I've ever written. I liked the graphic I found, to match it, but couldn't figure a way to make it into a .jpg, so instead made it a .pdf file. |
FORGETTER BE FORGOTTENForgetter Be Forgotten?
My forgetter's getting better, But my rememberer is broke To you that may seem funny But, to me, that is no joke For when I'm 'here' I'm wondering If I really should be 'there' And, when I try to think it through, I haven't got a prayer! Oft times I walk into a room, Say 'what am I here for?' I wrack my brain, but all in vain! A zero, is my score. At times I put something away Where it is safe, but, Gee! The person it is safest from Is, generally, me! When shopping I may see someone, Say 'Hi' and have a chat, Then, when the person walks away I ask myself, 'who was that? Yes, my forgetter's getting better While my rememberer is broke, And it's driving me plumb crazy And that isn't any joke. |
MY GET UP AND GO
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