~ MAY ~

Do you remember back in childhood

How we loved the first of May

When we left our flower-filled baskets

On doorsteps, then ran away?

Do you remember how the gayest basket

Was for the one we loved the best.

And in it went the blossoms

That were fairer than the rest;

Such a beautiful and gracious custom

Somehow lost along the way.

But its memories come surging

As we welcome in the May.

by: Milly Walton

WHAT ALOHA MEANS

BLACK BEACH IN MAUI

It's more than just an easy word for a casual goodbye,

It's gayer than a greeting and sadder than a sigh.

It's all the tender messages that words cannot convey.

It's tears unshed and longing for a loved one gone away.

It's welcome to Hawaii and it's lingering farewell.

It's all the dear and silent things that lovers lips can tell.

It's frailer than the spider webs and strong as leather thongs.

It's fresh as dew on ginger blooms and older than the moon.

It's in the little lullaby's that native mothers croon.

It's said an hundred different ways, in sadness and in joy.

"Aloha" means I love you so I say ~~

Aloha Oe....

MAHALO

This is especially for Matt and Dayna. They are planning a well deserved trip to Hawaii. Ned and I received this poem from the pilot of the airline when we went on our island tour.

P.S. : Our pilot's name was Fred and he was Hawaiian

APRIL

When was the sky ever as blue as today?

When was the earth quite so mellow?

When was the song of the robin so gay?

Or the daffodil so yellow?

How did we ever emerge from the snow?

March really was rather frightful.

When did April achieve such a glow?

When was the sping more delightful?

SPRING EQUINOX ~ MARCH 20, 2009

The word "equinox" is derived from the Latin word meaning 'equal night' and refers to the time when the sun crosses the equator. Day and night are equal everywhere in the world. The March equinox marks the beginning of spring in the northern hemisphere, and the start of autumn in many parts of the southern hemisphere.

SPRING

In emerald shoes Spring pirouettes

Upon a crystal stage;

Then lifts enchanting hands to free

A singing scarlet page.

From barren stalks she draws bright flags

As sun spotlights her art.

And with a violet-scented kiss

She melts King Winter's heart.

by: Louise Hajek

VALENTINE'S

Valentine's Day is a day of love,

For showing that we care,

And if we read the Bible,

God describes love there.

If we speak like celestial angels

From heaven up above,

All our words mean nothing

If we don't have Christian love.

Love is patient, love is kind;

It doesn't brag or boast;

Love conquers pride and envy;

It is never self-engrossed.

Love is not rude or angry;

Forgiveness counters wrong;

Love stays away from evil;

It sings a truthful song.

Love is full of trust and hope;

It always perseveres;

Love never fails; It's faithful

To the Bible it adheres.

And if you give this kind of love

To your special Valentine,

You'll be loving right in harmony

With God's own sweet design.

by: Joanna Fuchs

www.poemsource.com

WINTER SUNSET

As though reluctant to retire

And yield her reign to eventide,

The setting sun turns into fire,

and tints the country side.

Then as she slowly sinks from sight,

She calmly calls the earth to rest

And gently tucks into the west

The coverlet of night.

by: Barbara Burrow

JANUARY

Branches shiver naked in the breeze

Above the silver wavelets of a rill.

Snow-white quilting hugs low round the trees

As winter flaunts her power and her skill.

Unlike emblazoned twilight of a May,

When angels finger-paint each amber cloud,

The January dusk is palest gray

Yet every bit as beautifully endowed.



by: Mary Volk

A CHRISTMAS STORY

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 house did live.
I looked all about a strange sight I did see, no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand, on the wall hung pictures of a far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds, a sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, it was dark and dreary. I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping silent, alone. Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder, not how I pictured a United States Soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read? Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realized the families that I saw this night, owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world, the children would play. and grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year, because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone, on a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home.
The very thought brought a tear to my eye, I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and 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."
The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep, I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still and we both shivered from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark night, this Guardian of Honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over with a voice soft and pure, whispered "carry on Santa, it's Christmas day, all is secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."

Please remember our troops in far away lands this Christmas. And also, please say a prayer for the military that have come home with so many serious injuries. These are the brave ones that have given their all for this great country, and are now slowly, trying to rebuild their lives.

DECEMBER

Drifting downward through the sky, comes the glistening snow;

Floating, whirling, twirling by, down to earth below.

Snowflakes, snowflakes, large and small, far as eye can see,

Happy children, one and all, into the snowflakes flee !!

Ben Wood

WHEN PRETTY THINGS GET BROKEN

My life was just like china

a lovely thing to me,

Full of porcelain promises

of all that I might be.

But fragile things do slip and fall

as everybody knows.

Ane when my life came crashing down

thoses tears began to flow.

But Jesus is no porcelain Prince,

His promises won't break,

His Holy Word holds fast and sure,

His love no one can shake.

So if your life is shattered

by sorrow, pain or sin

His healing love will reach right down

and make you whole again.

NOVEMBER

November is a lonely waif

With wistful wide-eyed ways.

Subdued by the flamboyance of

The bright October days.

And feeling very small before

December's sparkling glance

Never mind, November, twirl

Your tattered skirts and dance.

Dance a bittersweet ballet

With the leaves that fly away !!

AUTUMN IN MONTANA

COME LITTLE LEAVES, SAID THE WIND ONE DAY....

COME OVER THE MEADOW WITH ME AND PLAY...

PUT ON YOUR DRESSES OF RED AND GOLD...

SUMMER IS GONE, AND THE DAYS GROW COLD...

Every year in the fall, my sister Sandra would visit our Mother who lived in Helena, Montana.

My sister would take long walks in Helena and along the way she would stop and gather beautiful leaves, and recite this little poem to herself. This is for my sister...may your heart and mind always go back to Helena in the fall....and to the wonderful smells from Mama's house.

OCTOBER

Where are you going, my children?

Down autumn's leaf-strewn lanes

To find Jack Frost who tiptoed by

And touched our windowpanes.

I see storm windows that must be hung,

You see frost tracings in early sun.

I see the leaves to be raked in a mound,

You see tumbling mats on the ground.

Where are you going, my children?

Just down the road a way

To see the tree where the owl sits

And a field where rabbits play.

I see small boots to be marked and mated,

You see a world newly decorated.

Oh, let me come with you down that land

And see October as a child again.

Barbara Burrow

TWO BOXES

I have in my hands two boxes

Which God gave me to hold.

He said, "Put all your sorrows in the black box,

And all your joys in the gold."

I heeded His words, and in the two boxes,

Both my joys and sorrows I stored,

But though the gold box became heavier each day,

The black was as light as before.

With curiosity, I opened the black,

I wanted to find out why,

And I saw, in the base of the box, a hole,

Which my sorrows had fallen out by.

I showed the hole to God, and mused,

"I wonder where my sorrows could be!"

He smiled a gentle smile and said,

"My Child, the gold is for you to count your blessings,

The black is for you to let go."

CLIMB THE HIGHEST YOU CAN

We are all God's children and He loves us, every one.

He freely and completely forgives all that we have done.

Asking only if we're ready to go where He leads,

Content that in His wisdom, He answers all our needs.

The children sitting in the tree, are two of our grest-grandchildren, Lydia and Tessa.

As you can see, they are "sitting on top of the world " !!!

by: Helen Steiner Rice