FATHER'S DAY

HIGH FLIGHT

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds-and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of-wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hovering there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
Where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

---John Gillespie Magee, Jr.




Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.


--An Old Astronomer To His Pupil

THESE I'VE LOVED

THESE I’VE LOVED

These I’ve loved since I was little;
Wood to build with or to whittle,
Wind in the grass and falling rain,
First leaves along an April lane,
Yellow flowers, cloudy weather,
River-bottom smell, old leather,
Fields newly plowed, young corn in rows,
Back-country roads and cawing crows,
Stone walls with stiles going over,
Daisies, Queen Anne’s lace, and clover,
Night tunes of crickets, frog songs, too,
Starched cotton cloth, the color blue,
Bells that ring from white church steeple,
Friendly dogs and friendly people.

…….Elizabether-Ellen Long

I LOVE OLD THINGS

I LOVE OLD THINGS

I love old things:
Streets of old cities
Crowded with ghosts
And banked with oranges,
Gay scarfs and shawls
That flow like red water.




I love old abbeys
With high, carved portals
And dim, cool corners
Where tired hearts pray:
I join them in the silence
And repair my soul.

I love old inns
Where floors creak eerily
And doors blow open
On windless nights,
Where heavy curtains
Dance a slow waltz.




I love old trees
That lift up their voices
High above the grasses.
They do not sing
At the light wind’s bidding:
They chant alone to storms.

I love old china,
Knowing well the flavour
Of great, strong men
And fair, sweet women
Lurks at the rim
Of each deep brown bowl.




I love old books
Frayed from the searching
Of truth-hungry fingers:
Their warm, soft vellum
Leads me up through sorrow
Like a dear friend’s hand.

I love old men
And old, dear women
Who keep red cheeksl
As the snows of winter
Keep the round red berry
Of the winter-green.




I love old things:
Weather-beaten, worn things,
Cracked, broken, torn things,
The old sun, the old moon,
The old earth’s face,
Old wine in dim flagons,
Old ships and old wagons –
Old ships And Old Wagons –
Old coin and old lace,
Rare old lace.

--Wilson MacDonald

A LADY FOR ALL SEASONS - REMEMBERED

TRIBUTE TO MELODIE

Near this spot are deposited the remains of one who possessed Beauty without Vanity, Strength without Insolence, Courage without Ferocity, and all the Virtues of Man, without his Vices. This Praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery if inscribed over human ashes is but a just tribute to the Memory of Boatswain, a Dog. - Lord Byron

LIFE AND THE UNIVERSE

THOUGHTS

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined! As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler, solitude will not be solitude, poverty will not be poverty, nor weakness weakness. -Thoreau

DAKOTA'S SUNDAY SURPRISE

WELCOME TESS

Dakota had a big surprise Sunday. It was a very special visitor. Check out the pictures. I think he was a little concered about something this small. It wasn't a toy. He wasn't sure what to do for a while, but then he decided this was a great new playmate.



I'm not sure Tess was all that impressed but she remained the darling lady that she is. Dakota hopes that she will come back for more visits so he can try to impress her again and they can become friends.

Talk about both ends of the spectrum - a puppy and an 11- year young senior! Does it get any better than this?

SPRING'S FINERY

SONNET
I wish I could remember that first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me.
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or Winter for aught I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May,
If only I could recollect it, such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;
It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch
First touch of hand in hand-did one but know!

Christina Georgina Rossetti

GARDEN FRIENDS

Four-Leaf Clovers

I know a place where the sun is like gold,
And the cherry blooms burst with snow;
And down underneath is the loveliest nook,
Where the four-leaf clovers grow.

One leaf is for hope, and one for faith,
And one is forlove, you know;
But God put another in for luck-
If you search, you will find where they grow.

But you must have hope, and you must have faith;
You must love and be strong; and so,
If you work, if you wait, you will find the place
Where the four-leaf clovers grow
......Ella Higginson