It may not be the same,
But some things never change.
I feel it and I trust it,
I still believe in forever
Because that's what my heart knows.
Memories are the dew drops on our petals
That re-open the buds that have closed.
Flowers wilt as seasons change,
Though they grow a little more with rain.
The sun will shine when in need,
And left behind, a precious seed.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
For Anne
Just by the thought of you
I find myself all sad again.
I've lost you, but also gained.
I know I must be grateful,
but my soul is sad for you.
I'll remember you always
for the good you have done,
for the seed you have sown,
for the faith you have given me
and for the example you set.
Yet, I find myself all sad again,
in my thoughts,
in my joys.
My thoughts are closed,
cause you don't look there anymore.
The season is over and
I know I must be happy
but the loss is too big
and the pain too intense.
I need to tell you my new story,
see your eyes,
experience your smile
and taste the tea we usually drink.
I just so much wish
you could see the harvest of my life
from the seeds you have sown!
Especially now, when it's full in harvest -
I know your soul would have smiled.
But then again, although I'm sad -
I know I'm glad -
cause I know I've saved you.
I'll rest my heart in that . . .
{By:"Merry }
I find myself all sad again.
I've lost you, but also gained.
I know I must be grateful,
but my soul is sad for you.
I'll remember you always
for the good you have done,
for the seed you have sown,
for the faith you have given me
and for the example you set.
Yet, I find myself all sad again,
in my thoughts,
in my joys.
My thoughts are closed,
cause you don't look there anymore.
The season is over and
I know I must be happy
but the loss is too big
and the pain too intense.
I need to tell you my new story,
see your eyes,
experience your smile
and taste the tea we usually drink.
I just so much wish
you could see the harvest of my life
from the seeds you have sown!
Especially now, when it's full in harvest -
I know your soul would have smiled.
But then again, although I'm sad -
I know I'm glad -
cause I know I've saved you.
I'll rest my heart in that . . .
{By:"Merry }
Henrys Halloween
Lantern burning light
Still the moon keeps shining bright
Darkness comes to make it night
Children given a fright
Witches fly across the sky
On a broomstick up, up high
Black cat flying with the witch
Wizard's Wand beginning to twitch
'Trick or Treaters' playing tricks
On those who didn't give them sweets
Everyone is very scared
The pumpkin has an evil glare
Evil spirits fill the streets with bones
The skeletons are in town!
Ghosts keep the children awake
......Bats fly back to their cave.
THE MONSTER WHO WAS MISUNDERSTOOD
This is a tale of poor old Frank --
Frank the monster, not Tom, Rich, or Hank.
He was created by a scientist in a great house.
A house on a mountain, much too big for a mouse.
There in the basement, the docter toiled night and day,
with the help of his friend Igor, who had little to say.
Finally when all was assembled like a bike,
a bolt of lightning gave dear Frank his new life.
He sat up from the table where he laid for months,
scratched his square head, and said "I'm ready for lunch!"
He crashed through the door, and went into town,
where he arrived at the diner and tried to sit down.
But everyone screamed , and left their plates hot.
Even the cooks ran away without their prized pots.
So Frank could have nothing to quell his belly's rumble,
not a burger, or fries, or even Apple Pie Crumble.
He was almost in tears, and very, very sad,
and walked into the streets where everyone went mad,
and screamed in horror at Frank's sight.
No one had seen such a thing in their life.
Frank tried to explain, "I'm just hungry, that's all.
I mean you no harm, even though I am tall."
A little girl saw him where she sat on the corner,
and thought, he's not so scary, infact he might be an orphan.
So she walked up to Frank and tugged at his sleeve,
and said, "My name is Cinthia, Cindy if you please."
He said, "I'm just a little hungry, and don't know where I am."
"That's O.K.," Cindy answered, and pulled out some ham--
ham for a sandwich she was waiting to make,
and she pulled out two slices of bread freshly baked.
They sat on the corner to a half sandwich each,
both happy, and smiling as a sunny day peach.
{Merry Dominique G. Duclayan}
Frank the monster, not Tom, Rich, or Hank.
He was created by a scientist in a great house.
A house on a mountain, much too big for a mouse.
There in the basement, the docter toiled night and day,
with the help of his friend Igor, who had little to say.
Finally when all was assembled like a bike,
a bolt of lightning gave dear Frank his new life.
He sat up from the table where he laid for months,
scratched his square head, and said "I'm ready for lunch!"
He crashed through the door, and went into town,
where he arrived at the diner and tried to sit down.
But everyone screamed , and left their plates hot.
Even the cooks ran away without their prized pots.
So Frank could have nothing to quell his belly's rumble,
not a burger, or fries, or even Apple Pie Crumble.
He was almost in tears, and very, very sad,
and walked into the streets where everyone went mad,
and screamed in horror at Frank's sight.
No one had seen such a thing in their life.
Frank tried to explain, "I'm just hungry, that's all.
I mean you no harm, even though I am tall."
A little girl saw him where she sat on the corner,
and thought, he's not so scary, infact he might be an orphan.
So she walked up to Frank and tugged at his sleeve,
and said, "My name is Cinthia, Cindy if you please."
He said, "I'm just a little hungry, and don't know where I am."
"That's O.K.," Cindy answered, and pulled out some ham--
ham for a sandwich she was waiting to make,
and she pulled out two slices of bread freshly baked.
They sat on the corner to a half sandwich each,
both happy, and smiling as a sunny day peach.
{Merry Dominique G. Duclayan}
A boo a gram
Green cats eyes
in midnight gloom
fly with the witch
on her ragged broom
Ghosts and shadow people
evade our sight.
None may not see what they might.
We begin our door to door Halloween flight.
Not knowing our immediate blight
we bravely approach your door and RING……
TRICK OR TREAT!! We say with a strong and mighty grin.
Candy and little toys we hope to gain
from this daring plan imagined in these little brains.
BOOOOO!! We are greeted as a scary hand
extends to our goodie sacks.
The lights go black, we stagger back!!
Screams explode, others jump!!
Dogs howl and unfriendly things give us a bump.
It’s Halloween! The voice screams as
we dump out our goodie sacks and run.
in midnight gloom
fly with the witch
on her ragged broom
Ghosts and shadow people
evade our sight.
None may not see what they might.
We begin our door to door Halloween flight.
Not knowing our immediate blight
we bravely approach your door and RING……
TRICK OR TREAT!! We say with a strong and mighty grin.
Candy and little toys we hope to gain
from this daring plan imagined in these little brains.
BOOOOO!! We are greeted as a scary hand
extends to our goodie sacks.
The lights go black, we stagger back!!
Screams explode, others jump!!
Dogs howl and unfriendly things give us a bump.
It’s Halloween! The voice screams as
we dump out our goodie sacks and run.
Tapestry of dreams (poetry)
Come dear child embrace this time
Erase sad memories from your mind
upwards spread your wings and fly
for tomorrow brings a brighter sky.
Your canvas waits with an eager eye
paint your dreams clear and bright
Let colours burst with hopeful strokes
sketch the paths you long to walk.
Scratch the surface deep beneath
search the soul for all lost beliefs
Discover the one who waits inside
the journey's yours so take the ride.
Control the brush, paint your life
blacken out dark pain and strife
Remember child the chance is one
so adore your time before it's gone.
The gift of life is a picture book
so turn the pages and take a look
And how you paint it is down to you
be creative with colours you choose.
And in the end a tapestry bright
amber suns invade black nights
The pallet w
Erase sad memories from your mind
upwards spread your wings and fly
for tomorrow brings a brighter sky.
Your canvas waits with an eager eye
paint your dreams clear and bright
Let colours burst with hopeful strokes
sketch the paths you long to walk.
Scratch the surface deep beneath
search the soul for all lost beliefs
Discover the one who waits inside
the journey's yours so take the ride.
Control the brush, paint your life
blacken out dark pain and strife
Remember child the chance is one
so adore your time before it's gone.
The gift of life is a picture book
so turn the pages and take a look
And how you paint it is down to you
be creative with colours you choose.
And in the end a tapestry bright
amber suns invade black nights
The pallet w
My Shadow
By Robert L. Stevenson
I have a little shadow that go in and out with me
And wath can be the use of him is morethen i can see
He is verry verrry like me from the heels up to the head.
And I see him jump before me when I jump into my bed....
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow
Not at all like proper children wich is always verry slow
for he somethimes shoots up taller like and india rubber ball
and he somethimes get so little that theres none of him at all...
He hasnt got a notion of hot children ought to play
and can only make a fool of me in evry sorth of way
he stays so close beside me his a coward you can see
I'd THink shame to stick to nursie as the shadow sticks on me
One morning very early befor the sun was up
I rose and see the shining view of every buttercup
but my lazy little shadow like an errant sleepy head
had stayed at home bbehind me and was fasasleep in bed.
I have a little shadow that go in and out with me
And wath can be the use of him is morethen i can see
He is verry verrry like me from the heels up to the head.
And I see him jump before me when I jump into my bed....
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow
Not at all like proper children wich is always verry slow
for he somethimes shoots up taller like and india rubber ball
and he somethimes get so little that theres none of him at all...
He hasnt got a notion of hot children ought to play
and can only make a fool of me in evry sorth of way
he stays so close beside me his a coward you can see
I'd THink shame to stick to nursie as the shadow sticks on me
One morning very early befor the sun was up
I rose and see the shining view of every buttercup
but my lazy little shadow like an errant sleepy head
had stayed at home bbehind me and was fasasleep in bed.
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