Forbidden-Eden(F-Eden)
Eden.
Heaven Above.
Help Us;
Save This Love.
Raven.
Eye's Above.
Save us;
From The Forbidden One-1.
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Artistic Expression/The Written Word/Speak Your Mind
- Thread starter GreenFish66
- Start date
Forbidden-Eden(F-Eden)
Eden.
Heaven Above.
Help Us;
Save This Love.
Raven.
Eye's Above.
Save us;
From The Forbidden One-1.
Without a good Sense of Humor, One would either Burn-out, or Blow up, long before seeing all the best life has to offer.
______________________________________
820am
Funny820 - All day Comedy
It helps.
______________________________________
820am
Funny820 - All day Comedy
It helps.
Need Truth and Proof to Prove the Truth...Believe what you will...You are Entitled to/by your Opinion.
Don't mind them Apple Fruit Flies...Or even them Crazy Banana Fruit Flies...But there's somethin' just not quite right bout them there, Tomato Fruit Flies!
Damned Smart *** Fruit Flies!
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The Book of Memories
The hour is getting late
In the long shadows of the afternoon
Right before Christmas
I take a long walk in the snow.
Passing through the rows of apple trees
I thank them for the living they provide.
As I walk my mind sets to open
The book of memories.
To be sure the old memories are there
And stand out like the traditional ornaments
From Christmas’s long ago,
There are the sounds, the smells and the visions
Of what once was and what is,
And sometimes they cross each others path
Like snow sparkles in the suns fading light.
I remember one of my first Christmases
When I got a present from my Aunt MC
Two little hard cover books one inside the other
Mr. Big and Mr. Small
I drove people crazy asking them to read to me.
I remember as a very small boy,
Going into the woods to find a tree
And drag it home on the toboggan
The endless day of shopping in our small town
Snowflakes mixing with the tarnished snow
Ruts left by the endless procession of cars.
My mother loved Christmas
She bought presents for everyone.
Some people called her the Christmas lady
As they received a present
They wouldn’t have got otherwise
If it were not for her generosity
Long before the days of the food drives
My father and my uncle would
Drop off food hampers anonymously
To less fortunate neighbours
Ah yes the year the car caught fire
It was Christmas Eve.
My father began putting it out
With his suit coat
I can still hear my mother scolding him.
He told her to get back in the car.
A smile still catches the corner of my mouth
As I think of the surprised look on her face.
I close my eyes for a second
The old house comes into view.
It was huge, nine or ten foot ceilings
Everything seems huge to a boy of five or six.
It was a big old house
Built at the end of the nineteenth century
So big the upstairs rooms were sealed off in winter
The old kitchen had a pantry and summer kitchen
And the dining room also had a stage
Surrounded by a big bay set of windows
There was an elegant living room
With a stone fireplace and a mantle,
I swear that mantle was as wide and long as a freeway
Every year the Christmas tree seemed bigger
It filled the corner of the room
And the star would nearly touch the ceiling.
The brightness of the tree
And the mellow glow of the fireplace
Served as a welcome mat for Santa’s arrival
Even in the lean years Santa always came.
Christmas day started with the usual mayhem
And subsided to the roar of a myriad of chores
The women buzzed about the farm kitchen
Fussing over the turkey and trimmings
The men, they swapped stories
And consumed their share of rum and whiskey
If I pause to focus for a second
I see aunts, uncles and family friends
Talking and laughing in the spirit of the moment
All of them are now lines on the pages of history.
In the winter silence two days before Christmas
Just before darkness pulls down the shades
On another day
I spot the lights from the outdoor decorations
Dancing in sparkles on the snow
I think for a moment of all those Christmas’s past
And how they prepared me for Christmas now
I am now the one my grandchildren
And great grandchildren will remember
In their quiet reflections of Christmas
We all have a book of memories
If we all take a moment to open that book
We have a chance to peek
Through the window of our soul
Not to judge, to remember
And in so doing we get to understand
Just how blessed we really are
Fred Steele © 12/23/2013
Member RSOA™ 2012
The hour is getting late
In the long shadows of the afternoon
Right before Christmas
I take a long walk in the snow.
Passing through the rows of apple trees
I thank them for the living they provide.
As I walk my mind sets to open
The book of memories.
To be sure the old memories are there
And stand out like the traditional ornaments
From Christmas’s long ago,
There are the sounds, the smells and the visions
Of what once was and what is,
And sometimes they cross each others path
Like snow sparkles in the suns fading light.
I remember one of my first Christmases
When I got a present from my Aunt MC
Two little hard cover books one inside the other
Mr. Big and Mr. Small
I drove people crazy asking them to read to me.
I remember as a very small boy,
Going into the woods to find a tree
And drag it home on the toboggan
The endless day of shopping in our small town
Snowflakes mixing with the tarnished snow
Ruts left by the endless procession of cars.
My mother loved Christmas
She bought presents for everyone.
Some people called her the Christmas lady
As they received a present
They wouldn’t have got otherwise
If it were not for her generosity
Long before the days of the food drives
My father and my uncle would
Drop off food hampers anonymously
To less fortunate neighbours
Ah yes the year the car caught fire
It was Christmas Eve.
My father began putting it out
With his suit coat
I can still hear my mother scolding him.
He told her to get back in the car.
A smile still catches the corner of my mouth
As I think of the surprised look on her face.
I close my eyes for a second
The old house comes into view.
It was huge, nine or ten foot ceilings
Everything seems huge to a boy of five or six.
It was a big old house
Built at the end of the nineteenth century
So big the upstairs rooms were sealed off in winter
The old kitchen had a pantry and summer kitchen
And the dining room also had a stage
Surrounded by a big bay set of windows
There was an elegant living room
With a stone fireplace and a mantle,
I swear that mantle was as wide and long as a freeway
Every year the Christmas tree seemed bigger
It filled the corner of the room
And the star would nearly touch the ceiling.
The brightness of the tree
And the mellow glow of the fireplace
Served as a welcome mat for Santa’s arrival
Even in the lean years Santa always came.
Christmas day started with the usual mayhem
And subsided to the roar of a myriad of chores
The women buzzed about the farm kitchen
Fussing over the turkey and trimmings
The men, they swapped stories
And consumed their share of rum and whiskey
If I pause to focus for a second
I see aunts, uncles and family friends
Talking and laughing in the spirit of the moment
All of them are now lines on the pages of history.
In the winter silence two days before Christmas
Just before darkness pulls down the shades
On another day
I spot the lights from the outdoor decorations
Dancing in sparkles on the snow
I think for a moment of all those Christmas’s past
And how they prepared me for Christmas now
I am now the one my grandchildren
And great grandchildren will remember
In their quiet reflections of Christmas
We all have a book of memories
If we all take a moment to open that book
We have a chance to peek
Through the window of our soul
Not to judge, to remember
And in so doing we get to understand
Just how blessed we really are
Fred Steele © 12/23/2013
Member RSOA™ 2012
Something I wrote just a few days ago in preparation for Christmas
Tomato Fruit Fly - Smart *** Fly.
Don't mind them Apple Fruit Flies...Or even them Crazy Banana Fruit Flies...But there's somethin' just not quite right bout them damn, Tomato Fruit Flies!
...Damn Smart *** Flies!
Don't mind them Apple Fruit Flies...Or even them Crazy Banana Fruit Flies...But there's somethin' just not quite right bout them damn, Tomato Fruit Flies!
...Damn Smart *** Flies!
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Cnn - "Writers Inspired By The Moon" Writers inspired by the moon: Part 1 - CNN.com - The Art Of Movement Presents - "Writing By Moonlight"
- Very Well Illustrated...Well Worth The Time.
- Very Well Illustrated...Well Worth The Time.
Not bad...All's Well. Thanks for askin'.
What you doin' Mr.D.B.?
Stirrin' **** up in Cyberspace no doubt.
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