Farewell My Son, For Now
Tears fill my eyes as I contemplate the thoughts that frame this post. Tears of joy? Yes, some. Tears from the pang that is separation? Yes, some. Although, it has been too many years since my… Farewell My Son, For Now
Positive Priority
If you find yourself making decisions for yourself and for your families, think about this. If you are making decisions to be around people and influences because you feel you have to, reconsider. Sometimes we… Positive Priority
Perpetual Fulfillment
We all have our places we cherish, the ones where time comes as close to standing still as it ever will. Visit with those places often and soak up the aura you came to find.… Perpetual Fulfillment
I agree Lord Byron
There Is Pleasure In The Pathless Woods There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music… I agree Lord Byron
Cozy White
I venture out into another cold winter’s night, Warmed by memories and this reality of cozy white.
Thanks for this place
The wind whips the snow against the windows I hide behind Now snow drained clouds drift overhead, flat light I find Then I notice in the distance, blue sky encroaches this scene With it, the… Thanks for this place
The Old Farmer
The Old Farmer
I write sometimes too much, other times not quite enough
Getting the time, or room in peace to work can be tough
Before I wrote my most viewed piece, Destination Homestead
There was a man who taught me to use an axe in the shed
Before if was the right time to do my Generation Jumping
There was a man , well-read, his stories true, lacking nothing
I remember a guy who could dribble, and throw with either hand
He was there for The Hug, it’s my pleasure knowing this man
The December women, Janette and Marjorie ; both gardener’s
I love. I feel. I write. This too, I shared God Made a Farmer
Today is my birthday and as a present I’d rather share
Read on, if the words pull you, let them take you there
The following lines only begin to capture what I see,
In the fading clips my mind plays of how it used to be
But, if I could, I’d be there now, as it was, maybe inside
In the old north room, from icy wind you could not hide
Or perhaps I’d come down the old stairs just a bit
To smell the bacon, still my favorite I must admit
Settle in here and take this trip, maybe grab a partner
These are my heroes see, each one I call the old farmer