☆☽☆´´¯`•.¸¸.☆ Lay back and stretch as you gaze out into the stars that light the background of our nights. The moon conducts the symphony of twinkling lights that dapple the pathway into our minds eye. Let us capture your imagination and produce "aha" moments. ☆☽☆´´¯`•.¸¸.☆Ponder the sites, chew on the words and laugh if the feeling moves you.*¯`•.¸¸.☆ ~☽~
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Friday, December 13, 2013
Where the Sidewalk Ends
There is a place
where the sidewalk ends
And before the
street begins,
And there the grass
grows soft and white,
And there the sun
burns crimson bright,
And there the
moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the
peppermint wind.
Let us leave this
place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street
winds and bends.
Past the pits where
the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a
walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the
chalk-white arrows go
To the place where
the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with
a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where
the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children,
they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the
sidewalk ends.
~by Shel Silverstein
How Did it Get so Late So Soon?
How did it get so late so soon?
It's night before it's afternoon.
December is here before it's June.
My goodness how the time has flewn.
How did it get so late so soon?
~Dr. Seuss
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
~ Robert Frost (1874 - 1963)
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
.~○°°If°○~☆
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream---and not make dreams your master; If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same:. If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son! |
~ Rudyard Kipling
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