breathe . . . Just Let Me Breathe . . .

breathe by Becky Hemsley

She sat at the back and they said she was shy,
She led from the front and they hated her pride.
They asked her advice and then questioned her guidance,
They branded her loud, then were shocked by her silence.

When she shared no ambition they said it was sad,
So she told them her dreams and they said she was mad.
They told her they’d listen, then covered their ears,
And gave her a hug while they laughed at her fears.

And she listened to all of it thinking she should,
Be the girl they told her to be best as she could.
But one day she asked what was best for herself,
Instead of trying to please everyone else.

So she walked to the forest and stood with the trees,
She heard the wind whisper and dance with the leaves.
She spoke to the willow, the elm and the pine,
And she told them what she’d been told time after time.

She told them she felt she was never enough,
She was either too little or far far too much.
Too loud or too quiet, too fierce or too weak,
Too wise or too foolish, too bold or too meek.

Then she found a small clearing surrounded by firs,
And she stopped…and she heard what the trees said to her.
And she sat there for hours not wanting to leave,
For the forest said nothing, it just let her breathe`.

~ Becky Hemsley ~

Gal reads poem on instagram, if you'd like to listen to the poem.

I Gave You My All

By Joanne Boyle

I gave you my eyes, 

so that you can see,

that each piece of you,

is a piece of me.

I gave you my heart,

so that you can know.

I am with you,

wherever you go.

I gave you my voice,

so that you can speak,

and say how you feel

each day of the week.

I gave you all of my pieces,

but you fill each hole.

You are My Child.

My Heart and Soul.

You can find the author

HERE

I Remember . . . When I Was a Kid

I remember the bologna of my childhood, 

And the bread that we cut with a knife, 

When the children helped with the housework, 

And the men went to work not the wife. 

The cheese never needed a fridge, 

And the bread was so crusty and hot, 

The children were seldom unhappy 

And the wife was content with her lot. 

I remember the milk from the bottle, 

With the yummy cream on the top, 

Our dinner came hot from the oven, 

And not from a freezer; or shop. 

The kids were a lot more contented, 

They didn't need money for kicks, 

Just a game with their friends in the road, 

And sometimes the Saturday flicks. 

I remember the shop on the corner, 

Where cookies for pennies were sold 

Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic? 

Or is it....I'm just getting old? 

Bathing was done in a wash tub, 

With plenty of rich foamy suds 

But the ironing seemed never ending 

As Mama pressed everyone's 'duds'. 

I remember the slap on my backside, 

And the taste of soap if I swore 

Anorexia and diets weren't heard of 

And we hadn't much choice what we wore. 

Do you think that bruised our ego? 

Or our initiative was destroyed? 

We ate what was put on the table 

And I think life was better enjoyed. 

Author Unknown 

If you can remember those days, 

continue to enjoy your retirement.

The Gift-Wrap and The Jewel

 By Wanda B. Goines, she is 92!

Watch the video - it is so very touching!

Wanda B. Goines is a precious 92-year old women who shared great wisdom through a poem she wrote and recited to her caretaker, Kathryn Clausnitzer Wilson.  Kathryn loved the poem so much that she recorded Wanda reciting the poem and shared it on Facebook.  With over 4.5 million view and 187,000 shares, Wanda's sweet poem went viral!

I looked in the mirror and what did I see, 

but a little old lady peering back at me. 

With bags and sags and wrinkles and wispy white hair, 

and I asked my reflection, how did you get there? 

You once were straight and vigorous and now you’re stooped and weak. 

When I tried so hard to keep you from becoming an antique. 

My reflection’s eyes twinkled as she solemnly replied, 

you’re looking at the gift wrap and not the jewel inside. 

A living gem and precious of unimagined worth. 

Unique and true, the real you, the only you on earth. 

The years that spoil your gift wrap with other things more cruel, 

should purify and strengthen and polish up that jewel. 

So focus your attention on the inside, not the out, 

on being kinder, wiser, more content, and more devout. 

Then when your gift wrap is stripped away, 

your jewel will be set free to radiate 

God’s glory throughout eternity.

Marine's Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone, 

In a one-bedroom house made of plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney, with presents to give 

and to see just who in this home did live.

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see, 

no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.

No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand. 

On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land. 

With medals and badges, awards of all kind, 

a sobering thought soon came to my mind.

For this house was different, unlike any I’d seen. 

This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I’d heard stories about them, I had to see more, 

So I walked down the hall and pushed open the door. 

And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone, 

Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,

Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine. 

Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read? 

Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan. 

I soon understood, this was more than a man.

For I realized the families that I saw that night, 

Owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight. 

Soon around the Nation, the children would play, 

And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.

They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,

Because of Marines like this one lying here. 

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone, 

On a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home. 

Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye. 

I dropped to my knees and I started to cry. 

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice, 

“Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice 

I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more. 

My life is my God, my country, my Corps.” 

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep, 

I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.

I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill. 

So I took off my jacket, the one made of red, 

And covered this Marine from his toes to his head. 

Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold, 

With an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold. 

And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride, 

And for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside. 

I didn’t want to leave him so quiet in the night, 

This guardian of honor so willing to fight. 

But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure, 

Said “Carry on, Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all secure.” 

One look at my watch and I knew he was right,

Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.

✽¸.•♥♥•.¸✽✽¸.•♥♥•.¸✽✽¸.•♥♥•.¸✽✽¸.•♥♥•.✽¸.•♥♥•.¸✽✽¸.•♥♥•

Scottish Blessing- Honoring National Friends...

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.

There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

'I want to repay you,' said the nobleman. 'You saved my son's life.'

'No, I can't accept payment for what I did,' the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.

'Is that your son?' the nobleman asked.

'Yes,' the farmer replied proudly.

'I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of.' And that he did.

Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia. What saved his life this time? Penicillin.

The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill ... His son's name?  Sir Winston Churchill. 

Someone once said: 

What goes around comes around.

Work like you don't need the money.

Love like you've never been hurt.

Dance like nobody's watching.

Sing like nobody's listening.

Live like it's Heaven on Earth.

It's National Friendship Week. 

AN IRISH FRIENDSHIP WISH: 

May there always be work for your hands to do;

May your purse always hold a coin or two;

May the sun always shine on your windowpane;

May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain;

May the hand of a friend always be near you;

May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.

And may you be in heaven a half hour before

 the devil knows you're dead.

See Mother, Funny Funny Mother

by Unknown


See Mother. See Mother laugh. Mother is happy.
Mother is happy about Christmas.
Mother has many plans. Mother has many plans for Christmas.
Mother is organized. Mother smiles all the time.
Funny, funny Mother.
See Mother. See Mother smile. Mother is happy.
The shopping is all done. See the children watch TV.
Watch, children watch.
See the children change their minds.
See them ask for different toys.
Look, look, Mother is not smiling.
Funny, funny Mother.

See Mother. See Mother sew.
Mother will make dresses.
Mother will make robes.
Mother will make shirts.

See Mother put the zipper in wrong.
See Mother sew the dress on the wrong side.
See Mother cut the skirt too short.
See Mother put the material away until January.
Look. Look. See Mother take a tranquilizer.
Funny, funny Mother.

See Mother. See Mother buy raisins and nuts.
See Mother buy candied pineapple and powdered sugar.
See Mother buy flour, and dates, and pecans, and brown sugar, and bananas, and spices, and vanilla.
Look. Look. Mother is mixing everything together.
See the children press out cookies.
See the flour on their elbows.
See the cookies burn. See the cake fall.
See the children pull taffy. See mother pull her hair.
See mother clean the kitchen with the garden hose.
Funny, funny Mother.

See Mother. See Mother wrap presents. See Mother look for the end on the scotch tape roll. See Mother bite her finger nails. See Mother go.
See Mother go to the store 12 times in one hour.
Go Mother go. See Mother go faster. Run Mother run.
See Mother trim the tree.
See Mother have a party.
See Mother make popcorn.
See Mother wash the walls.
See Mother scrub the rug.
See Mother tear up the organized plan.
See Mother forget gift for Uncle Harold.
See Mother get hives.
Go Mother go. See the far away look in Mother's eyes.
Mother has become disorganized. Mother has become disoriented.
Funny, funny Mother.

It is finally Christmas morning. See the happy family.
See Father smile. Father is happy.
Smile Father smile.
Father loves fruit cake.
Father loves Christmas pudding.
Father loves all the new neckties.
Look, look. See the happy children. See the children's toys.
Santa was very good to the children.
The children will remember this Christmas.

See Mother. Mother is slumped in a chair.
Mother is crying uncontrollably.
Mother does not look well.
Mother has ugly dark circles under her blood shot eyes.
Everyone helps mother to her bed.
See Mother sleep quietly under heavy sedation.
See Mother smile.
Funny, funny Mother.

Judge's prayer

Alabama Judge
Some of you may be wondering what Judge Roy Moore has been doing since he was removed from the bench for refusing to remove the Ten Commandments from his courtroom wall. Please read the poem he wrote. It's below his picture.

The following is a poem written by Judge Roy Moore from Alabama. Judge Moore was sued by the ACLU for displaying the Ten Commandments in his courtroom foyer. He has been stripped of his judgeship and now they are trying to strip his right to practice law in Alabama! The judge's poem sums it up quite well.

America the beautiful,
or so you used to be.
Land of the Pilgrims' pride;
I'm glad they'll never see.

Babies piled in dumpsters,
Abortion on demand,
Oh, sweet land of liberty;
your house is on the sand.

Our children wander aimlessly
poisoned by cocaine
choosing to indulge their lusts,
when God has said abstain

From sea to shining sea,
our Nation turns away
From the teaching of God's love
and a need to always pray

We've kept God in our temples,
how callous we have grown.
When earth is but His footstool,
and Heaven is His throne.

We've voted in a government
that's rotting at the core,
Appointing Godless Judges
who throw reason out the door,

Too soft to place a killer
in a well-deserved tomb,
But brave enough to kill a baby
before he leaves the womb.

You think that God's not angry,
that our land's a moral slum ?
How much longer will He wait
before His judgment comes ?

How are we to face our God,
from Whom we cannot hide ?
What then is left for us to do,
but stem this evil tide ?

If we who are His children,
will humbly turn and pray;
Seek His holy face
and mend our evil way:

Then God will hear from Heaven;
and forgive us of our sins,
He'll heal our sickly land
and those who live within....

But, America the Beautiful,
If you don't - then you will see,
A sad but Holy God
withdraw His hand from Thee.

~~Judge Roy Moore~~



This says it all.
Offer prayers for Judge Moore to be blessed and for America to wake up and realize what we need to do to keep OUR America the Beautiful.

IN GOD WE TRUST!

A Soldier Died Today - A Poem Worth Reading

A Soldier Died Today

         He was getting old and paunchy

        And his hair was falling fast, 

        And he sat around the Legion, 

        Telling stories of the past. 

       Of a war that he once fought in 

        And the deeds that he had done, 

        In his exploits with his buddies; 

        They were heroes, every one. 

       And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors 

        His tales became a joke, 

        All his buddies listened quietly 

        For they knew where of he spoke. 

       

        But we'll hear his tales no longer, 

        For ol' Joe has passed away, 

        And the world's a little poorer 

        For a Soldier died today. 

       He won't be mourned by many, 

        Just his children and his wife. 

        For he lived an ordinary, 

        Very quiet sort of life. 

       He held a job and raised a family, 

        Going quietly on his way; 

        And the world won't note his passing, 

        'Tho a Soldier died today. 

       When politicians leave this earth, 

        Their bodies lie in state, 

        While thousands note their passing, 

        And proclaim that they were great. 

       Papers tell of their life stories 

        From the time that they were young 

        But the passing of a Soldier 

        Goes unnoticed, and unsung. 

       Is the greatest contribution 

        To the welfare of our land, 

        Some jerk who breaks his promise 

        And cons his fellow man? 

       Or the ordinary fellow 

        Who in times of war and strife, 

        Goes off to serve his country 

        And offers up his life? 

       The politician's stipend 

        And the style in which he lives, 

        Are often disproportionate, 

        To the service that he gives. 

       While the ordinary Soldier, 

        Who offered up his all, 

        Is paid off with a medal 

        And perhaps a pension, small. 

       It is not the politicians 

        With their compromise and ploys, 

        Who won for us the freedom 

        That our country now enjoys? 

       Should you find yourself in danger, 

        With your enemies at hand, 

        Would you really want some cop-out, 

        With his ever waffling stand? 

       Or would you want a Soldier 

        His home, his country, his kin, 

        Just a common Soldier, 

        Who would fight until the end?

       He was just a common Soldier, 

        And his ranks are growing thin, 

        But his presence should remind us 

        We may need his likes again. 

       For when countries are in conflict, 

        We find the Soldier's part 

        Is to clean up all the troubles 

        That the politicians start. 

       If we cannot do him honor 

        While he's here to hear the praise, 

        Then at least let's give him homage 

        At the ending of his days.

 

        Perhaps just a simple headline 

        In the paper that might say: 

        "OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING, 

        A SOLDIER DIED TODAY." 

Read Quietly, Then Send It Back On Its Journey

To realize the value of a sister/brother
Ask someone who doesn't have one.
To realize the value of ten years:
Ask a newly divorced couple.

To realize the value of four years:
Ask a graduate.

To realize the value of one year:
Ask a student who has failed a final exam.

To realize the value of nine months:
Ask a mother who gave birth to a stillborn.

To realize the value of one month:
Ask a mother who has given birth to
A premature baby.

To realize the value of one week:
Ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realize the value of one minute:
Ask a person who has missed the train, bus or plane.

To realize the value of one second:
Ask a person who has survived an accident.

Time waits for no one.
Treasure every moment you have.

You will treasure it even more when
You can share it with someone special.

To realize the value of a friend or family member:

LOSE ONE.

The origin of this letter is unknown,

Remember....

Hold on tight to the ones you love!

Oct 2012

I'd Pick More Daisies

I'd Pick More Daisies
By  Nadine Stair, age 85

If I had my life to live over,
           I'd try to make more mistakes next time.
                I would relax. I would limber up.
      I would be sillier than I have on this trip.
      I would be crazier. I would be less hygienic.
   I would take more chances, I would take more trips.
  I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers,
        and watch more sunsets.
I would burn more gasoline. I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
  I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones.
         You see, I am one of those people who lives
    prophylactically and sensibly and sanely,
    hour after hour, day after day.

               Oh, I have had my moments
  And if I had it to do over again, I'd have more of them.
        In fact, I'd try to have nothing else.
       Just moments, one after another.
      Instead of living so many years ahead each day.
     I have been one of those people who never go anywhere
    without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a
        raincoat, and a parachute.

    If I had to do it over again, I would go places and do things.
                       I'd travel lighter than I have.
      If I had my life to live over, I would start barefooted
         earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.
           I would play hooky more. I wouldn't make such good grades
              except by accident.
                   I would ride on merry-go-rounds.

                        I'd pick more daisies!

Early Halloween Greeting

From October 2012

Early Halloween Greeting

 SEASON'S GREETINGS

T'was the night before elections
And all through the town
Tempers were flaring
Emotions all up and down

 I, in my bathrobe,

With a cat in my lap,
Had cut off the TV,
Tired of political crap.

 When all of a sudden,

There arose such a noise,
I peered out my window,
Saw Obama and his boys.

 They had come for my wallet,

They wanted my pay,
To give to the others,
Who had not worked a day!

He snatched up my money,
And quick as a wink,
Jumped back on his bandwagon,
As I gagged in the stink.

 He then rallied his henchmen,

Who were pulling his cart,
I could tell they were out,
To tear my country apart!

 'On Fannie, on Freddie,

On Biden and Ayers!
On Reid, On Pelosi,
He screamed at the pairs!

They took off for his cause,
And as they flew out of sight,
I heard him laugh at the nation,
Who wouldn't stand up and fight!

So I leave you to think,
On this one final note,
IF YOU DON'T WANT SOCIALISM
GET OUT AND VOTE !!!!

GOD BLESS AMERICA , OUR ONLY HOPE!!!

Computer Swallowed Grandma

THE COMPUTER SWALLOWED GRANDMA
The computer swallowed grandma.
Yes, honestly its true!
She pressed 'control' and 'enter'
And disappeared from view.

It devoured her completely,
The thought just makes me squirm.
She must have caught a virus
Or been eaten by a worm.

I've searched through the recycle bin
And files of every kind;
I've even used the Internet,
But nothing did I find.

In desperation, I asked Jeeves
My searches to refine.
The reply from him was negative,
Not a thing was found 'online.'

So, if inside your 'Inbox,'
My Grandma you should see,
Please 'Copy,''Scan' and 'Paste' her
And send her back to me.

This is a tribute to all the 

Grandmas who have been fearless and . . . .

Learned to use the Computer.....

They are the greatest!!!

We do not stop playing because we grow old;

We grow old because we stop playing.

NEVER Be The First To Get Old!

Cleaning The Mouse . . .

I asked the Lord to tell me
Why my house is such a mess.
He asked if I'd been 'computering',
And I had to answer 'yes.'

He told me to get off my fanny
And tidy up the house.
And so I started cleaning up...
The smudges off my mouse.

I wiped and shined the topside.
That really did the trick...
I was just admiring my work.
I didn't mean to 'click..'

But click, I did, and oops I found
A real absorbing site.
That I got SO way into it..
I was into it all night.

Nothing's changed except my mouse
It's very, very shiny.
I guess my house will stay a mess...
While I sit here on my hiney.  

January 2011

BEAUTIFUL CHRISTIAN SISTER

When I say that 'I am a Christian', 

I am not shouting that 'I am clean living’.

I'm whispering 'I was lost, but now I'm found and forgiven.' 

When I say 'I am a Christian', I don't speak of this with pride. 

I'm confessing that I stumble and need Christ to be my guide.

When I say 'I am a Christian', I'm not trying to be strong. 

I'm professing that I'm weak and need His strength to carry on. 

When I say 'I am a Christian', I'm not bragging of success. 
I'm admitting I have failed and need Gods help to clean my mess.

When I say 'I am a Christian', I'm not claiming to be perfect. 

My flaws are far too visible, but God believes I am worth it.

When I say 'I am a Christian', I still feel the sting of pain. 

I have my share of heartaches, so I call upon His name. 

When I say 'I am a Christian', I'm not holier than thou,

I'm just a simple sinner who received God's good grace, somehow! 

Pretty is as pretty does but . . . 

Beautiful is just plain beautiful.

 

BEAUTIFUL CHRISTIAN SISTER

October 2010