tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27137208628517005012024-02-07T20:49:33.150-08:00LostNights Scribblings*We wander upon this world with the burning desire to make just a little piece of it our own* The Photography, poetry and writings are of my own thoughts and philosophies. I created this blog for the pure enjoyment of the spoken word.Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-66009262876790052942010-07-18T21:57:00.006-07:002010-07-18T22:09:22.382-07:00Blogging Friends<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6600;">Some of my blog friends here know that I'm also a photographer besides a writer as some of my creative interest. So I really want to take this time to invite you to check out my photog blog "The Looking Glass Image" here's a link <a href="http://lookingglassrealms.blogspot.com/">http://lookingglassrealms.blogspot.com/</a></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6600;"> I hope you enjoy it there as well, maybe become a subscriber to get the latest happenings. Well, that's it for now so go check it out and feel free to leave any comments...</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6600;"></span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-13317242297335064722010-06-02T14:32:00.011-07:002010-06-02T15:08:50.325-07:00Dahlia (A Spanish Waltz)<span style="color:#cc9933;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">I know I hadn’t felt much like writing of late, been dealing with some bummed out feelings for a while, the type one brings on to oneself. I won’t discuss my triggers, they may be some of the same ones as yours anyway. Knowing that most who read my blogs are of a human kind and my friends here are kind humans you can probably relate.<br /><br />Depression I guess is something that most of us face from time to time. Some deal with a little differently than others, when I reach a point I write. I do write in those other times of emotions too. Just when we feel more vulnerable they seem ride on our sleeves as we hold them close. With that said, I thought I would write lyrics to a Spanish waltz. As you can tell I wrote in spanish first then in english.<br /><br />Please leave a comment if you wouldn’t mind, I’d had lost most of my followers here, to me is crushing enough…</span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Dalia (Un Vals Español)<br /><br />Radiante amor</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Luz de la luna de su resplandor</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">para el calentamiento del sol de la </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">mañana</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Hermosa Dalia</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Con gracia en una sala de bailes</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Despacio</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Sonrisas en los corazones</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Para todo lo que toca</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Todo el mundo se desvaneció</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Mi hermosa dalia</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Se está convirtiendo en</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Un recuerdo fugaz</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Para ella se ha ido</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Oh Dalia</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Nunca olvidaré sus dones</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Una vida tan caliente</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Hermosa, pero perdió</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Todo lo que queda</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Son estas lágrimas por</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Mi hermosa </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Dalia </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">Dahlia (A Spanish Waltz)<br /><br />Radiant love<br />Moonlight of her glow<br />Morning sun so warming<br /><br />Beautiful dahlia<br /><br />Gracefully dances into a room<br />Slowly<br />Smiles on the hearts<br />To all she touched<br />Everyone swooned<br /><br />My beautiful dahlia<br /><br />Are now becoming<br />A fleeting memory<br />For she is gone<br /><br />Oh dahlia<br /><br />I will never forget her gifts<br />A life so warm<br /><br />Beautiful but lost<br />All there is left<br />Are these tears for<br /><br />My beautiful </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">Dahlia</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc9933;"></span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-43435494294434260662010-02-16T23:03:00.005-08:002010-02-17T00:12:10.149-08:00Back On the Road<span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGMkGqhP9dteW3QKXk-8txl8jBppyAGxs84DRELTlMPExdxV_tgMnSDw7yDVLeOC0C12JOgORZk-KuLCJaPJN3y2a7FxruFlPXblT73uJhV-qqHme0UbqoSbJp1KIPLBElarXLW-QY0tRV/s1600-h/trucking.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439120976307539890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGMkGqhP9dteW3QKXk-8txl8jBppyAGxs84DRELTlMPExdxV_tgMnSDw7yDVLeOC0C12JOgORZk-KuLCJaPJN3y2a7FxruFlPXblT73uJhV-qqHme0UbqoSbJp1KIPLBElarXLW-QY0tRV/s320/trucking.JPG" /></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></p></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"><div>Sun is coming up just<br />East of Kennewick<br />I’m getting tired<br />The same old song<br />Of the tires on the road<br /><br />Another mile down<br />So many more to go<br />Can’t think much of anything<br />But getting closer to you<br />Hope to make Billings<br /><br />Then one more day<br />This trip will be through<br />It was good hear your voice<br />When we talked<br />Waiting in line to use the phone<br /><br />Back out on it<br />Nothing on the radio<br />Leaving me thinking<br />How much I really<br />Don’t like being away from home<br /><br />When the night falls<br />Tuck away in this big rig<br />It’s tough to get to sleep<br />Finally letting go of the wheel<br />The mind wrestles with it all<br /><br />Knowing by time you get there<br />You will have grabbed another load<br />Saying your sorries giving her the kiss<br />Missing the wide open country</span></div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Heading back out there on the road…</span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-22422332926259855552010-02-04T17:29:00.018-08:002010-02-05T22:31:15.415-08:00Lost Dreams<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">I thought I knew the pain<br />How it was going to be<br />Only I’d stayed<br />The broken road<br /><br />Somewhere lost </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">What was so dear<br />Like secretes that fell<br />To hollow spaces<br />Beneath the stones<br /><br />A leaf at play in a stream<br />Flows the distance<br />Chasing hopes so clear<br />loosing to the waves<br /><br />Holding close the time<br />I have left to dream<br />Keeping them dry<br />From the rain...<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;"></span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-9649410063349535152009-12-01T09:00:00.003-08:002009-12-01T09:05:36.477-08:00Thoughts and Memories of You<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;"><br />A November chill is biting at the ends of my ears<br />As I pull up the collar<br />Golden memories falling from the trees<br />Slowly dissipate with the wind<br /><br />All the thoughts that built up to the day<br />Becoming harder to keep them straight<br />Ones hope to never loose<br />Are of those being with you<br /><br />Hiding my dry cold hands<br />In the snugged lined pockets<br />Of the coat given in the better of times<br />There’s a key I just can’t let go<br /><br />Dragging my feet to a path<br />Knowing too that will come a time<br />When the leaves thick and deep</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">Will had faded and gone.</span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-66431101467228993952009-11-21T17:38:00.012-08:002009-12-01T08:59:08.859-08:00Another Frantic Photographic Day<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Down the lonely highways<br />Searching for an un-traveled road<br />As images scroll by<br />Trespassing signs fogging up your mind<br /><br />You keep pressing on<br />For a shot that will make the day<br />Just one more curve<br />Around another hill<br /><br />One last stop to get what you can<br />Fingers itch for another click<br />So many blurring the memory<br />Now the battery is running low<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">By the time you get back<br />Thoughts start to seep in<br />Thinking about what was exposed<br />Those settings, so many ISO’s<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Before you reach a place to check<br />You think of all the time you spent<br />Feeling yourself turning gray<br />As you walk in door<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Pulling cards, finding a reader<br />Looking for what you did<br />As the blood leaves you head<br />Huddle in a corner<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Laptop fully opened<br />The lights dimmed<br />Sorting through the captures<br />Like an excited kid<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Struggling to figure out<br />A ribbon on a larger gift<br />Then surprised by<br />What you got<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">And some<br />Were never planed<br />Spouting old clichés<br />Looking forward to another day<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Pretending to be a photographer<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">With the camera securely in your hand</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff9900;">Framing everything you see </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff9900;">Along the way...</span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-70299342665163941122009-10-21T21:53:00.009-07:002009-10-21T22:19:26.001-07:00In A Happy Place<span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;">Another night in<br />A state of bliss</span></span><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><br /></span><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">What a ride<br /><br />Nothing is going to bother me<br />It’s like winning a lottery<br /><br />Only if I could hang on this feeling<br />All of my days<br /><br />I have a neighbor<br />Who wont listen to his kids<br />But gets his advice<br />From a pet who won’t go outside<br /><br />I’d been feeling this good<br />Not feeling any ills<br />Don’t know where it came<br /><br />If you ask how I got here<br />I couldn’t tell you with a straight face<br /><br />I don’t care<br />Just as long as it never goes away<br /><br />There’s a friend at work<br />Who left his home and a ugly woman<br />Now he’s happier<br />But hooked up with even an uglier one, still<br /><br />The world might be falling apart<br />Nothing is going to cause it to shake<br /><br />Things may not come my way<br />Everything is all right </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I know I’m in a happy place…</span></span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-44774013467973358442009-10-19T21:00:00.011-07:002009-10-19T23:16:57.994-07:00Portabella Dreams<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"><span style="color:#999900;">Sometimes I just can’t believe some of the dorky stuff I come up with and write. I was thinking of nursery rhymes and children’s stories I’d loved as a child. Then this fell on my keyboard…<br /></span><br /><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"><strong>Portabella Dreams</strong><br /><br />Sunrays sprays through the shutters<br />Sleep rubbing from my eyes<br />Bluebird sings the morning<br />Fawns tasting their first dew<br /><br />Gathering fragrant herbs<br />Under the crisp blue skies<br />Welcoming a new day's greeting<br />From a lower mossy limb<br /><br />Flowered sweeten air<br />Linen drape wicker basket<br />I’d sat by my side<br />Fast falling into a portabella dream<br /><br />Reaching a world where dreams go<br />Time measured by the sun’s beams<br />Entering Eden’s soft place<br />Sitting on a mushroom stool<br /><br />Making light talk<br />With all the creatures<br />Great and small<br />The shadow had landed on the dial<br /><br />Time is short<br />And now I must go<br />Everyone there knows</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;">I will come again, to be back this way…</span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-34235968491039071472009-10-16T23:15:00.007-07:002009-10-16T23:50:04.795-07:00To Drift Away<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1tYrhB593h_Dt_y3gPS2LeyFVjKxCdrZVC8zEJC14aR60qn2bHvsDFnh_BV0g7eBWqTN_XFg1OEoPd2i8uYenyIk4SzWdg31L8jOnSZzkozZOSkL8mAZ2i0yjD3tCUnUu8EZTJ1cRcUCR/s1600-h/Copy+of+DSC_0082.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393449204035617730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1tYrhB593h_Dt_y3gPS2LeyFVjKxCdrZVC8zEJC14aR60qn2bHvsDFnh_BV0g7eBWqTN_XFg1OEoPd2i8uYenyIk4SzWdg31L8jOnSZzkozZOSkL8mAZ2i0yjD3tCUnUu8EZTJ1cRcUCR/s320/Copy+of+DSC_0082.JPG" /></a><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">There’s a place where we go<br />A door opens to protected you in the night<br /><br />There’s a place where we hide<br />To break away from the fears that sit deep inside<br /><br />There we find a place, troubles are left behind<br />Darkness broken by the light<br /><br />We allow ourselves to be free<br />Our cares float away a drift in the sky....</span></div><div></div><div></div>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-3206515448900224992009-10-09T22:36:00.004-07:002009-10-09T22:41:21.953-07:00I’d Drifted Here and There Chasing Endeavors<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">I hadn’t been around for a while I very much apologize for my absentee. I really hope I hadn’t lost any of you the friends I so much relied on and truly care about in our spherical blog world we had made.<br /><br />I had drifted in and around from time to time. Flying on the weaken wings of inspirations with all of you continually on my mind, slowly starving my cerebral expressive ability to write.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">So I thought a little about Greek mythology and what they had to experience with the scribes responsible for the arts and penned this scribble today.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"><strong>Illusory Polyhymnia</strong><br /><br />Long corridors, the cold echoes<br />Spills down the halls<br />Glimpsing sound of footsteps<br />Ever coming close enough<br />Unrevealed unrecognized.<br /><br />A penned yell, “Show yourself”<br />Illusive sights fade<br />Hunger pains<br />For an inspirational key<br />Turning of the head<br />Warm wind fills the lungs<br />Silent words seeps in<br />Breeze without a sound<br /><br />Each finger falls<br />Letters drift into place<br />Conceptual thoughts<br />Inks the page<br />Heart races<br />Pulse pounds<br />Tear soaked parchments<br />Pains streams into verse<br />Pages of words<br />You know hold true<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">A palindromic liquidity</span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-52947963840842906052009-08-08T07:01:00.003-07:002009-08-08T07:15:37.196-07:00What I Pray<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc00;"><br />One day our pain won’t lay the rules<br />Light fills every room<br />Kindness catches on<br /><br />Hunger is not a norm<br />Selfish acts are unseen<br />Goes on to be ignored<br /><br />When I pray<br /><br />There will be an end to war<br />Power isn’t a payment for evil<br />Shadows lose their darkness<br />The world will be out of the gloom<br /><br />I pray<br /><br />Love is for everyone to hold<br />Bitterness disappears<br />And there is hate no more</span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-59017263688088442282009-07-09T16:27:00.011-07:002009-07-09T17:17:58.509-07:00The Ghosted Memories<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;"><br />You have yours<br />I have to live with mine<br /><br />As it whittles away<br />Leaving us in the day<br />Where the world was ours<br />Now Ghosted memories<br /><br />Echoes of a love<br />In the disappearance of time.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Like, to so many of us, feeling that she was the most beautiful woman with a voice of powerful alluring talent, ever to be bestowed onto the world and the music scene and no one has ever come close.<br /><br />Every time I reflect on the times back then, she and her music is always been part of those memories for me.<br /><br />As a lot of us had discovered, time stays for no one.<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Happy Birthday Linda, I will always love you.</span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/A0qm8nq8RcA&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/A0qm8nq8RcA&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-10112916160917649662009-07-05T17:32:00.012-07:002009-07-06T19:32:43.367-07:00Dream of Dreams<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">We'd all had dreams, some we’ll share, some are like secretes we keep close to ourselves as in some type of personal sanctuary vault, with the hopes that the combination to our locks could never be deciphered.<br /><br />I had mentioned awhile back that when I was so frustrated with my writings about five years ago, I had destroyed them all with a ritual burning.<br /><br />Well it had so happened that I ran across few of them loosely in a forgotten storage in my humble desert dwelling of a home, carefully while on the watch of a cantankerous black widow or two that may be lingering about. I sorted through some of them, just wondering what the hell was I thinking or what girl did I think would be interested in my pocket full of my mumbled scribbles I would sometimes quickly pull out to dedicate to.<br /><br />Some I may share with you, some I probable won’t, but you will have to keep in mind that these were done in a different time and place that the world is in today, that my world was in.<br /><br />Some were written when I was in my teens. I was a drummer, songwriter and singer in a popular neighborhood band in the Seattle area. It was in the late sixties so much was happening at a very fast rate then.<br /><br />I always considered myself to be so enriched with the cultural scene back then, fortunately I was able to be in the thick of it on some level or another. It still has so much to do with what influences of our world today and that of my own. So much so, I can’t escape it, even in my way of thinking, my thoughts and emotions, sometimes will creep in, finding them in my current writings and art, that still reflects on how I felt.<br /><br />Chasing Dreams was one of those short ones I wrote back then and this one Dream of Dreams was one if I remember right was one we wrote music to.<br /><br />We'd like playing in the parks such as Greenlake, Woodland, the fountain at the Seattle Center and a little park by my house called Ross Park. We would sit around in a half circle to which people gathered, it was another opportunity for us to try out new songs we were working on.<br /><br />To me some of these are kind of dorky with a hint of cheesiness to them. Hey! Can’t say I didn’t warn you, I was young and flying free.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Dream of Dreams<br /><br />I slip away to a place<br />Where no one goes<br />A place no one knows<br />I live where<br />My dreams come true<br />When I go to my dreams<br />There’s never no wrong<br />I dance to the serenade<br />Of my own songs<br />In the land of dreams<br />There are those who care<br />In my dream of dreams<br />Friends walk with me<br />For how ever long<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Come with me<br />In my dreams<br />Laugh while we run<br />Through meadows<br />When comes the night<br />There’s no fear<br />We’ll sit on the clouds<br />Stars in the sky<br />We’ll wish on every one<br />Milky way holds<br />So many<br />The wish I dream<br />Is you would be with me<br />In my dreams<br />Dream all your dreams<br />I know it’s a place<br />Where your dreams<br />Will come true<br />For you too<br />Dare to dream<br />Your dreams</span></span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-79915331272696908252009-07-03T19:09:00.006-07:002009-07-05T18:11:57.603-07:00Chasing Dreams<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EKq9Mg0js9ugpE8jo1NR4gzZUGp7EoqGWXarh48ZB9546L3ex_j1QOGbmr91QV-Ej2q19e6TnolQPVB43By09qwVgWh52pkIlT9RYJhHxGzvvqWVCCZ-q0kTeCE_jN9azOyRC8eFkLdH/s1600-h/copy2.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354422808050795490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EKq9Mg0js9ugpE8jo1NR4gzZUGp7EoqGWXarh48ZB9546L3ex_j1QOGbmr91QV-Ej2q19e6TnolQPVB43By09qwVgWh52pkIlT9RYJhHxGzvvqWVCCZ-q0kTeCE_jN9azOyRC8eFkLdH/s320/copy2.JPG" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">I’d felt when dreams are held to tightly</span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">Opening your hand only to loose them to the winds</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">There are times when it falls, far from the heart</span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">A smile passed on, keeps it all from falling apart</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">In the wilderness of changes, paths may divide</span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">I don’t know why, I will keep it all inside</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">It’s not the road to a goal</span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">More due to the dreams you claim </span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">as your own.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc9933;"></span></div><br /><div></div>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-74004333226905407712009-04-13T18:35:00.004-07:002009-04-13T18:45:54.137-07:00Road Trip<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">I'd been getting to know a new camera so I thought I would share one of my first shots with it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">OK! You got me, I just wanted rush on warmer weather, if this don't scream spring days, I don't know what will...</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324356246993802514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xo1bZ-SyjcYk5O2o09xQ2IETI4v-rxXBwAJ43KEWOM75E7g3V97_4-0Bc0tND2uQDrZwvGyVi4XU34XQf5WSEx9oq6thnrx4ciCYftL2Jg7f52w9Bq-UYoytD7vXCqmok_94tIh_jmPz/s320/twins.JPG" border="0" />Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-56497108168511027412009-04-11T22:07:00.008-07:002009-04-11T22:46:51.604-07:00Bewildered and Dazed<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;"><span style="color:#339999;">I'd had been through this experience more than once, never understanding how I'd could had made it through each time. Now more than ever, I have an appreciation for life trying not to take anything for granted. So much holds more importance to me such as this blog and the friends that I had been able to share with in the blogging community. Even with all that said, I am doing well, usually landing on my feet. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#339999;">The experience wasn't to long ago but during my rehabilitation is when I rediscovered writing and the blogs at the end of last year. Thanks to you all, I am much a stronger person.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Closing the door behind me </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Warming sun splashes my side </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Stepping onto the sidewalk</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Echoes of distant noises</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Something tells me </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">this is not going to be an usual day</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">People circle around me </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Asking if I’m feeling any pain</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">I don’t understand what they are saying</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">The sunny skies are turning grey<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Cares I’ve had now have no meanings</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">My body wants to drift to another place</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">I notice a bird flying then fading dark</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Someone is calling out</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Questions from the past<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Then a light pokes its way from the deep</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Calling for my name</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">I try to recognize those who are around </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Feeling their hands as I still drift away</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Fainting voices start getting louder</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">I think your going to be OK</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">We’re going to give you something </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">For your pain</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Down the long halls as ceiling lights pass by</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">To a cold room</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Where all is quiet now</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Knowing something has gone so wrong </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Bewildered left in my daze</span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-6867740342355354542009-03-12T21:09:00.006-07:002009-03-12T21:31:30.734-07:00<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;">Cuckoo Clock<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc00;">When my grandson would come over to our place, he’s so amazed by the cuckoo clock. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc00;">It would bring back the memories of my grandmother I was very close to growing up. <span style="font-size:85%;"><em>(From my archives)</em></span></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312521135205292258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 100px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LvHDOdyf9ubW0Flosraa94sakJ7_JnYFPKnh3rGzQt7EGgF6w93otx6jzcXz_uyenPdQ9UkEsi1RleSxWyza6Hx-aL6KW7rJIVrj8aEO_2Cj2kOQIZ8ugZ8RS8jLQJVgpVd0AmMIHcXL/s320/f302_1%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Cuckoo Bird Where Did You Go?<br /></span><br />Tis a happy day for me<br />Off to Gramps house to play you see<br /><br />Tis one thing I don't understand<br />Little black house with a little white hand<br /><br />Every time, when the cuckoo comes out<br />I run behind the living room couch<br /><br />That little cuckoo bird hid back in </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc00;">Gramps! Darn! I miss him again?<br /><br />To see him, I have to be quick as a hick-up<br />Wait 'til the big hand points straight up<br /><br />Finally I get to see him, little bird I'd heard before<br />He came out on his perch, then slammed the door<br /><br />When I go to Gramps and hear the tick-tock<br />I see the cuckoo bird I love so much<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc00;">Up there on the wall </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc00;">In his big black clock…</span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-78391825618538775132009-02-24T21:34:00.011-08:002009-02-24T22:51:46.446-08:00Are You Hungry?<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">A lot of us seem to have been hit with one type of sickness or another, maybe cabin fever over a prolonged winter or some been feeling kind of down.<br /><br />And others had been missing in action in our blogging neighborhood, till they get feeling better. Well, we will be glad to have you all back.<br /><br />I felt, I would like to lighten the mood a bit. So I thought I would post this one.<br /><br />It came up when I was watching a documentary about it a few years back, for one thing I couldn’t believe it warranted a documentary. But hey, they have to fill the time slots with something right?<br /><br />I used to like it at one time, before my health conciseness took hold several years ago.<br /><br />I knew that there was an almost cult type following over the stuff and that Hawaii was it’s capital of consumption. Who would have ever known?<br /><br />How ever I did write this just to be funny, it was one I never took very serious and I sure never planed on putting it out here.<br /><br />And this will probably gross some of you out, and some of the closet eaters of the stuff, that may never want to admit it, but then that's not really the point</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">We need some smiles going on…<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306609172900274082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwm_KnYVSymYUgs08JSccuH7rab9UHEce5DvtuR9mYqFPJZOZVqzGdnkL34i5sQB0p_kwxJBlECaXYXwjhQXLmXrwYy3F6gty1htoBcsy5DGyEByRF-smVA8qMpBYeaGIXjJ2H27xzz4nJ/s320/DSC01723.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><strong>Mystery Can</strong><br /></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">One day feeling hungry </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Like I never felt before </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Decided to go down to the </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Neighborhood grocery store </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Fumbling through the isles </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Looking for a tasty treat </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Found a strange square can </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Amongst other luncheon meats </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">So many ways to prepare it </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">You can cook it in a pan </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Or slap it between some bread </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">With eggs and other types of ham </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">I prefer it with taters </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Or any way you can </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">One thing you never want to do </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Is read the ingredients of your very </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Own can of Spam...</span></p>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-75968335777502545392009-02-18T21:13:00.011-08:002009-02-22T13:19:23.459-08:00Chuckanut Bay<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rDWkWKNSVqgjHIx_uWY8ktFRlqrLmgWuDzbbr5ThXtAKKtYIqr2bbdwKfy0hR5SrUji_lea1YGY1RblZnJRG1Yy4nbQyyvZQvTITa9oo-19WkszttYCehy9mZTir-qN2v4OTlYXR6jd6/s1600-h/Chuchanut+Bay.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304372932475481490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rDWkWKNSVqgjHIx_uWY8ktFRlqrLmgWuDzbbr5ThXtAKKtYIqr2bbdwKfy0hR5SrUji_lea1YGY1RblZnJRG1Yy4nbQyyvZQvTITa9oo-19WkszttYCehy9mZTir-qN2v4OTlYXR6jd6/s320/Chuchanut+Bay.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;">Setting sun as to put the world asleep<br />Last of the golden light<br />Slowly fading behind the islands<br />Dark coal blanket the pinhole sky<br />Just enough to let some of the light<br />Reveal the San Juans out across her lap<br /><br />Mother, I called out to her<br />Nature snuggles gently to her bosoms<br />All that is pure in her woods tonight<br /><br />Answering back a rising lunar sphere<br />Outline a doe and fawn </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;">absent of daylight colors<br />Orcas enchant as sirens of the deep<br /><br />Feeling safe in her arms<br />She comforts me<br />Drifting off in my own repose<br /><br />Wakening by a familiar bald eagle<br />Acting as a sentry<br />In the morning twilight<br /><br />Miles of plush velvet clouds<br />Laid out across the bay<br />high up<br />In solitude<br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;">Chuckanut Mountain</span> </div>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-62743782417856618122009-02-17T15:06:00.024-08:002009-06-07T19:45:27.198-07:00Corcus in Snow<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">When I seen this picture it reminded me of this poem</span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">A few of weeks ago I was looking for a poem I’d had written couple of years before, my brother wanted me to find one he’d remember and I’d didn’t. Some of you may remember, titled <em>A Child’s Angel.</em><br /><br />Some of you that know me, my style, is that every now and then I like to write in the simplest of forms. I just like the impact better sometimes.<br /><br />I’d had found several that I will eventually post, when the time is right. This one is on the same line, of my series of <em>the simple pleasure poems.</em> I’d had already have some of them in earlier post on this blog, one titled <em>Question</em> is one I did after I wrote </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;"><em>It’s the Little Things…<br /></em></span><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><p align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 106px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303909342727794930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJKMjmzBNT-ooVOzE5iFs6JfeJDLF4SZg5KykIcJG2VtzsqLLigQFSJS3cg8uNBGPnC8ucV1-c2OjiI6IDYGbYOfhnVF1LMAng2FN7ORx-LZggAHR1IySiSXcleY5x1OhtaXV-MnBBcAw/s320/CorcusinSnow.jpg" /></span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;"><strong>It’s the Little Things</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;"></span></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">How can we ignore </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">The simple things</span><br /></p></span><span style="color:#cc9933;"></span><p align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">As a child smiles </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">In the rain</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Sun’s rays </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">On a Cold day</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">The smell</span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Of breakfast </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">At camp</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">How can anyone ignore</span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">What I see </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">When I look into </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Your eyes</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Feelings of the heart </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">Of whom </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">We don't even know</span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Young love </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">An elder’s admiration</span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">For each other</span></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">Or ignore the</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">Sound of an</span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Enchanting melody</span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Of a small wooden flute</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Sunbeams through</span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">The trees </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">On the forest floor</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">How can we ignore</span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">A kitten’s cry</span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">For a mothers milk</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">A single crocus </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">In the snow</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">First opening </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Flower </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">In the spring</span><br /></p></span><span style="color:#cc9933;"></span><p align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">How can we ignore </span><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">Little things<br /></span><span style="color:#cc9933;"></span></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">That makes</span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Us </span><br /><span style="color:#cc9933;">Whole</span></span></p><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-54229331247001873782009-02-15T22:41:00.017-08:002009-02-18T21:20:03.748-08:00The Blank Blackboard of Creativity<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#ffcc33;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#ffcc33;">I was suffering a bout of writers block, a sort of lapse in creativity.<br /><br />So I’d, diverted my attentions away from blogging for the time being. I had a few other projects that needed some attention.<br /><br />Work a little while on some of my photography stuff, tried to clean up my wood shop and working a little bit on the garden shed, then off to sorting the stain glass and mosaics for future projects.<br /><br />Plus getting ready to get our business up and going in the next couple of months by spring…<br /><br />But this one little story kept creeping in my mind; it is about the looking for the creative side of one-self. Being lost in a fantasy world of enriched inspirations while trying to put something artful together, in a world others had gotten lost…<br /><br />All I had to do was to pay attentions to the subtle clues around everywhere and form guidance or a map if you will, back to one’s creative side, a spirit…<br /><br />Boy, it sure sounded good in my head though. Now that it is written out, well, I suppose I will be editing it a few times here and there.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303282922077483314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCEEncLmjwjqSn9WPizs9OQyO0HqHxXlJDCaAZevCBuexXGf3jTtANX3rZcQC2oXWfO7FBG6FI4Ixxio2dTam62vacJgmY6fy8QmH_zbEIDDQMpFjPDhUxRVTCZTEF7tEiP1GoJnroGRe/s320/176sun-lightofForest-m487.jpg" border="0" /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#ffcc33;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color:#cc0000;"> from deviantart...</span><br /></span><br /><strong></strong></span></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#ffcc33;"><strong>Search for the Lost Poem</strong></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">There’s a time </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">When the winds are still</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">A forest path</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">That leads to nowhere </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Lost for words</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Hearing a fainted flute </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Brings you in further</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">A path by the pond </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">There’s a toad laughing</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Birds in the trees keep singing</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">All that is gold </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Can fool you</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">It just is </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">What it is</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Down the trail there’s a stone </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">With strange markings</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Not knowing what they say</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Preceding </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Ignoring</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Next to a dam </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">A wise beaver points</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">The other way </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Saying </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">You won’t find it here</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">What you came for</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Whispering through the leaves</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Are the voices of those</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Who wandered </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Lost</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Their unwritten poems</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Songs never sung</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Artist left aimless</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Leaving the woods </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Throwing your best </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">To the breeze </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Hoping not to feel so vulnerable </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Or too harshly criticized </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Finding all that </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Appears to be gold</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Will be fooled<br /><br />Sitting by an old oak<br />Taking in the surroundings<br />The sounds<br />Fragrances<br />Swept up<br />In the currents of air<br /><br />Two dragonflies<br />Circles the oak<br /><br />Following them<br />As they wait for you<br />To catch up<br /><br />Taking you closer<br />To the edge of the forest<br />Out into the meadow<br />To where you started<br /><br />Words fall from the sky<br />Scattered to the ground<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Standing back<br />Phrases start to emerge<br />Stanzas form<br />To the writings of self-style<br />And the awareness of<br />Found discoveries</span></p>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-5225561569232108992009-02-01T22:14:00.022-08:002009-02-02T08:45:19.223-08:00For You Brother<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">I was flipping through some that I’d had written a couple of years ago. My brother was trying to describe one that stuck out in his mind. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">I kind of remember it, but then, I kind of didn’t.<br /><br />Then I ran across this one. Now I remember!<br /><br />Well, David my little bro, this one’s for you…<br /><br />We talk a lot on the phone almost every day sometimes upwards of two to four hours.<br /><br />He’d had put over hundred thousand miles last year listening to lonely songs of those eighteen wheels on the interstate.<br /><br />I would travel with him sitting at home protected from the elements as he battled blizzards in the Dakotas, struggled through the driving rains in the heartland and the heat in Arizona-Texas.<br /><br />I wrote this when I knew a couple that had lost their young one through an illness.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">I'd remember the sense of helplessness going through it, then the point when one finally succumbs to the fate that’s handed down.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bRuwWiLtVnZaKKv877ojwSnMOIjCvX-X0GoYaQIBA8jxA5pH8Lml-TcKbGnJvz_xFNOj33L6D3bxR1P7qpArroAOtIYZpCZd-yoq9qlXZPl39H0BAWXIPPAOJZkAQgPk6QqkM5mmtoDH/s1600-h/guardian_angel_by_fraeuleinamok.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298079827819397138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bRuwWiLtVnZaKKv877ojwSnMOIjCvX-X0GoYaQIBA8jxA5pH8Lml-TcKbGnJvz_xFNOj33L6D3bxR1P7qpArroAOtIYZpCZd-yoq9qlXZPl39H0BAWXIPPAOJZkAQgPk6QqkM5mmtoDH/s320/guardian_angel_by_fraeuleinamok.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://fraeuleinamok.deviantart.com/"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#990000;">http://fraeuleinamok.deviantart.com/</span></a><span style="color:#990000;"><br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#339999;">A Child’s Angle<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Mommy, will I ever see an angel?<br />The child’s questions go on<br />Someday my little one<br />But when, you can never tell<br /><br />Storm clouds moves over the young girl’s bed<br />Hush, my darling you need to sleep<br />They will take good care of you<br />Get well, everything will be alright<br /><br />Mommy, I seen an angel in the room<br />She was over in the corner<br />Did she say anything?<br />She told me not worry; she’ll see me soon<br /><br />Nurse, comes rushing to her side<br />Doctor, is there anything that can be done?<br />It’s up to a higher power now<br />She needs her rest and some quiet<br /><br />Mommy, the angel spoke to me tonight<br />My little one<br />What did she say?<br />Sleep, follow my dream and take her hand<br /><br />In lawns of green on a tree line street<br />Stands a statue of an angel that looks above<br />A plaque that reads our little one,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Went to heaven to find her angel to meet.</span>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-70164886316956037812009-01-31T20:14:00.021-08:002009-02-01T17:53:49.036-08:00Thank You for this Honorable Award<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsj8hhbnUH5ZpL0zhZXJtzydRKgRXeUEdhDkOQhJDX-H7GFbQ_nv8rSNKtzWJ6D9qZXkmtJpDazDRVMToLkoWmBYDcwxdqLCA_9FZixmG9pNL-vrxXm0gu4A7cM8Ge7xdsMwXrDEEQnFZE/s1600-h/lemonade_stand.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297677970874678914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 291px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsj8hhbnUH5ZpL0zhZXJtzydRKgRXeUEdhDkOQhJDX-H7GFbQ_nv8rSNKtzWJ6D9qZXkmtJpDazDRVMToLkoWmBYDcwxdqLCA_9FZixmG9pNL-vrxXm0gu4A7cM8Ge7xdsMwXrDEEQnFZE/s320/lemonade_stand.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;">Thank you <a href="http://voidofcolor.blogspot.com/">Tracey-Ann</a>, <a href="http://collectionofpoetry.blogspot.com/">Elle</a> and <a href="http://oldmossymoon.blogspot.com/">Old Mossy Moon</a>, for awarding me this award. I will pass it on to others as well, with great gratitude and deep appreciation…<br /><br />The rule as handed down is as describe:<br /><br />The Lemonade Award is for sites, which show great attitude and/or gratitude! Rules for the award: 1. Put the logo on your blog or post. 2. Nominate at least 10 blogs, which show great Attitude and/or Gratitude! 3. Be sure to link to your nominees within your post. 4. Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog. 5. Nominate your favorites and link to this post. I have nominated the following blogs among us: </span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"><br /></div></span><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;">Cherie ~ <a href="http://butterflydreamer-dreamlight.blogspot.com/">Butterfly Dreamer </a><br />Ellyssa ~ <a href="http://ellyneill.blogspot.com/">EllyNeill Designs</a><br /><a href="http://www.beloveddreamer.com/">Beloved Dreamer</a><br />Michele Cameron Drew ~ <a href="http://digital-artisan.blogspot.com/">Digital Artisan</a><br />Laura ~ <a href="http://underthesheets-shhh.blogspot.com/">Under The Sheets-Shhh</a><br />Grace DeWitt ~ <a href="http://gracedewitt.blogspot.com/">Where Quiet Sits and Dreams</a><br />Juliet Wilson ~ <a href="http://craftygreenpoet.blogspot.com/">Crafty Green Poet</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;">Clydean ~ <a href="http://wherethebuffaloroam-clydean.blogspot.com/">Where the Buffalo Roam</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33cc00;"><span style="color:#0000ff;"><span style="color:#33cc00;">Rhi ~ </span><a href="http://peanutbutterbound.blogspot.com/">Peanut Butter Bound</a></span></span></div>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-23156312463068826022009-01-27T21:43:00.010-08:002009-01-28T20:30:01.649-08:00While the Winter Season Last<span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">I wasn’t going to post this poem, but I decided do go ahead anyway. Some of them I probably never will and several of them I know I never will.<br /><br />What the heck! </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">We had a nice intense sunny day. So I started to do a little writing, soaking in the sunrays piercing across the cold winter room.<br /><br />My three dogs lying across my feet in the sun getting every sliver they could stretch out and reach for<br /><br />I’d been getting kind of tired of the winter taking so long for the season to pass, I do realize it is just that time of the year and we do have a little while left to go. I think few of us are going through some of the same anxieties of cabin fever. I know I am.<br /><br />Even though I enjoy having the four defined seasons to cycle through and our summers can be longer than the rest and I’m Ok with that. I need to be outside more than in.<br /><br />Once the better weather starts I’ll be working more and having less leisure time to spend and that’s Ok too.<br /><br />Still I couldn’t help it, whittling the hours away thinking of much warmer days in the tall grasses in the fields. Where the forest comes alive the air fills with insects, bees and the seeds floating to find fertile places to settle.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296218563952289554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgykewkhyi60l-S4ROzrCXI981osm5mYaqmOagOANeDeX9bC3O81JGq5is-OxaqfiVb4mnvnVTZBCav6zvGMl3l4F9BM_buDEBLiZykWnhnS5y3T6iLOb7foA2lYbbygf3BISFrnChL2rIh/s320/meadow-h71.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;">Nature's Awakening</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">In the spring when the darken chill</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Slowly leaves the scene</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Crocus sneak through the matted leaves</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Poking their heads toward warm sunbeams</span> </p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Songs of the bird’s carries past the trees</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Forest awakens the woods</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Creatures magnificent and small</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Find the sun where they stood</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Painted meadows beyond the shady groves</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Is where, you’re leading me </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Laying down in the fields</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Hidden away in a sea of greens</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Holding hands as we do our dance</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Bringing honor to the spring</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Love in the light of day, careful to</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Stay away from the fairy rings</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Hurrying to be getting back</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Before the sun sets, it's getting late</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Leaving the last touch of your hand</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Lasting kiss at the garden gate</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">When the moonlight glows in the window</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Through the shears</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Dreams fill the room</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Of the dance we held near</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Seeds we’ve sowed within us</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">That one spring day</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Committing our hearts </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff9900;">Is where we plan to settle and stay</span></p>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2713720862851700501.post-32480022639663832472009-01-18T20:06:00.003-08:002009-01-18T20:11:11.588-08:00Letting Go<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyw_ChTpg4dV8QdsnGiawfJMzojXraw-L8Z4hObTphH6Whs2iMBWJr7YlXu0v6JBLOwICwy2D_yxyWFUO-yIBAMIzjDYBXrb5InSrG2P7d3y2NyMjyshjIohRcZ7Dk5Wd-OsLTswvq6e9h/s1600-h/ruins-gingerbread.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292852055612425890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyw_ChTpg4dV8QdsnGiawfJMzojXraw-L8Z4hObTphH6Whs2iMBWJr7YlXu0v6JBLOwICwy2D_yxyWFUO-yIBAMIzjDYBXrb5InSrG2P7d3y2NyMjyshjIohRcZ7Dk5Wd-OsLTswvq6e9h/s320/ruins-gingerbread.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Walk by the old house the other day<br />Where the rusted screen door laid<br />Still empty after all these years<br />Creaking floors that holds so many tears<br /><br />Clapboard siding lost the memories<br />Of what the colors used to be<br />Broken fence letting the weeds out<br />Now covers the old living room couch<br /><br />Walk down the driveway today<br />Where the kids road their bikes and played<br />It’s sad it never did sell<br />All of our dreams that went away and fell<br /><br />Closed the gate when I left, don’t know why<br />I think it was something in me, deep inside<br />The place has become quite the eye sore<br />I won’t be going back there</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;">Anymore…</span></div>Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04903004698363242844noreply@blogger.com21