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(1 recommendation so far) Message 1 of 8 in Discussion 
From: Jacque  (Original Message)Sent: 11/21/2007 7:41 PM
 

The Magic of Winter

Winter and snow is a child's delight - things dreamed of in July;

Sleds and hills, squeals and spills, waving, as the world rushes by.

There is snow on the ground, snow in the air, snow, snow everywhere.

Angels they make in the blanket of white, and tomorrow will remember how

Snowflakes felt on their tiny tongues - like magic to them now.

There is snow on the ground, snow in the air, snow, snow everywhere.

Snow-people are made and all decked out with colours and a happy smile;

Forts are built with utmost care so they will last awhile.

There is snow on the ground, snow in the air, snow, snow everywhere.

Snowballs rolled and piled with glee; tots laughing merrily;

Adults watch, remembering - secrets bubbling free.

There is snow on the ground, snow in the air, snow, snow everywhere.

Skiers fly the well-packed slopes, independence lighting their eyes;

Blending with snow as they descend like magic from the skies.

There is snow on the ground, snow in the air, snow, snow everywhere.

The ice is cleared so skaters glide and maybe spin a dream

Of triple loops and a sharp edge and costumes of gold and cream

There is snow on the ground, snow in the air, snow, snow everywhere.

At the end of the day all tucked away, they dream of flakes of white

Floating from heaven, in a musical dance - an innocent child's insight.

There is snow on the ground, snow in the air, snow, snow, EVERYWHERE!


Joan Adams Burchell



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 Message 2 of 8 in Discussion 
From: JacqueSent: 11/21/2007 7:42 PM

Children and Snow

All winter they had waited; nature didn't let them down.

The squeals and giggles grew as they played without a frown.

Sliding down the perfect hills - a children's paradise;

No thought of clearing their white souffle, no thought of chopping ice.

My fingers, ears and toes felt frozen as I shovelled the mountain of snow

But my heart was warm and light as the laughter continued to grow.

Winter is for children; I'm sure of that today.

This is the season they tumble and laugh and truly love to play.

Computers are forgotten and they only see the snow;

Imaginations leap and soar - this is how little minds grow.

Joan Adams


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 Message 3 of 8 in Discussion 
From: JacqueSent: 11/21/2007 7:43 PM

Today's Canvas

Cobalt blue framed naked trees

At dawn this morn as I stood in the breeze.

Then violet and pink spread all about

And, above, white and powder feathered throughout.

Then, as I stood and watched with wonder

An iridescent line of gold held me under

The spell of nature, as that familiar ball

Rose quietly, brightly over all.

The splendour reflected on the January snow

Filled me with awe as I watched, and now know

Though the dawn comes surely every day,

The colour is always born in a different way.

I guess that's why I like to see

The dawn - the canvas of the day to be.

Joan Adams Burchell

(copyright)

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 Message 4 of 8 in Discussion 
From: JacqueSent: 11/21/2007 7:44 PM

The Sounds of Silence

The morning was mute, quiet and still

as I awoke from a peaceful rest;

The sounds of silence were a soft calm

and peace was mine - I was blessed.

 

A hushed world was solemn in thought

at the silence all around;

Snowflakes fell like pure-white feathers

and never made a sound.

 

A lull like this, in a busy world,

was Nature's gift of wonder;

I stifled thoughts of anything

that might put it asunder.

 

For just awhile on a winter's morn,

I turned within, in awe;

Listening to the sounds of silence

and the beauty that I saw.

 

Joan Adams Burchell
December 11, 2004


(copyright)

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 Message 5 of 8 in Discussion 
From: JacqueSent: 11/21/2007 7:45 PM

Winter Beauty
When it's winter in the Valley
and my breath hangs in the air,
The snow will crunch beneath my feet
and glisten in the air.
The stars at night light up my world
so I never walk alone;
It's clear and crisp and beautiful
in the Valley I call home.

Listening
I like the quiet on a winter's day;
it has so much to say.
It brings with it new ideas that
ordinarily wouldn't come my way.
Stillness - broken only by the whistle of a
far-off train or the ticking of the clock;
Stillness is when my mind and I never
feel the need to talk.
Eyes see more; thoughts are new;
wonder plays a part;
For in the stillness I hear those things
that are deep within my heart.

Hoar Frost
Branches were dipped in frosting this morn
and the sun cast a fairyland spell;
Each fragile twig looked feathered and white
and beckoned a heart to swell.
A winter treasure - a sight to behold -
while silence augmented the scene;
I wanted to walk through an open gate
to find the artist, supreme.
No gate could I see, the artist unseen,
awe captured my soul;
The canvas would change, as nature intended,
but I'd witnessed her morning's goal.

Winter Decor
Intricate forms of filigree
capture eye and mind
As I look at the frost on the window
and see nature's splendid design.
Dramatic, dainty, elegant, surreal -
an enchanting window-dress -
And windows in a tiny home
have donned winter's best.

Wonder
Friendly, heart-warming rays from above
show the magic of trees laden with virgin love;
prisms dance everywhere the eye can see,
mirroring what was, what is and what will forever be.

Winter Windows
Snowflakes, feathers, flying geese on frosted window panes;
Trees and skis on misty slopes, and, yes, some candy canes;
See white-filmed stars and crescent moons painted on the glass.
Jack frost, of winter, gives his best with surrealistic class.

A Winter Memory
Fresh-fallen snow, untouched by man, tops bushes fence and tree;
The strong, gusty wind, whirling it 'round, improves and enriches its beauty.
It sauntered down in the silence of night, leaving a scenic delight;
Now, in the sun, it dances and winks as we drink in the woundrous sight.
This is a picture-post-card scene - winter at its best;
It leaves a mark etched in our heart of when winter was our guest.


Reply
 Message 6 of 8 in Discussion 
From: JacqueSent: 12/8/2007 7:36 PM
Make A Difference

Is anybody happier
Because you passed his way?
Does anyone remember
 That you spoke to him today?

The day is almost over,
 And its toiling time is through;
Is there anyone to utter now
 A kindly word of you?

Can you say tonight, in parting
 With the day that's slipping fast,
That you helped a single brother
 Of the many that you passed?

Is a single heart rejoicing
Over what you did or said;
Does the man whose hopes were fading,
Now with courage look ahead?

Did you waste the day, or lose it?
 Was it well or sorely spent?
Did you leave a trail of kindness,
Or a scar of discontent?

As you close your eyes in slumber,
Do you think that God will say,
"You have earned one more tomorrow

 By the work you did today"?


Reply
 Message 7 of 8 in Discussion 
From: JacqueSent: 12/9/2007 5:12 AM
Senior citizens are constantly being criticized for every

conceivable deficiency of the modern world, real or imaginary. 

We know we take responsibility for all we have done and

do not blame others.

HOWEVER, upon reflection, we would like to point out that it

was NOT the senior citizens who took:

   The melody out of music,
     The pride out of appearance,
     The courtesy out of driving,
     The romance out of love,
     The commitment out of marriage,
     The responsibility out of parenthood,
     The togetherness out of the family,
     The learning out of education,
     The service out of patriotism,
     The Golden Rule from rulers,
     The nativity scene out of cities,
     The civility out of behavior,
     The refinement out of language,
     The dedication out of employment,
     The prudence out of spending,
     The ambition out of achievement, or,
    God out of government and school.

And we certainly are NOT the ones who eliminated patience and tolerance
from personal relationships and interactions with others!!
 

                               

And, we do understand the meaning of patriotism, and remember those
who have fought and died for our country.


Does anyone under the age of 50 know the lyrics to
the Star Spangled Banner?


What about the last verse of My Country 'tis of Thee?
"Our father's God to thee,
Author of liberty,
To Thee we sing.
Long may our land be bright,
With freedom's Holy light.
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God our King." 

                                            

Just look at the Seniors with tears in their eyes and pride in
their hearts as they stand at attention with their
hand over their hearts!




YES, I'M A SENIOR CITIZEN!

I'm the life of the party......even if it lasts until 8 p.m.
I'm very good at opening childproof caps...with a hammer.
I'm usually interested in going home before I get to where I am going.
I'm awake many hours before my body allows me to get up.
I'm smiling all the time because I can't hear a thing you're saying.
I'm very good at telling stories; over and over and over and over...
I'm aware that other people's grandchildren are not nearly as cute as mine.
I'm so cared for --  long term care, eye care, private care, dental care. 

                                           

I'm not really grouchy,
I just don't like traffic, waiting, crowds, lawyers, loud music, unruly kids,
Dan Rather, barking dogs, politicians and a few other things
I can't seem to remember right now.


I'm sure everything I can't find is in a safe secure place,  somewhere.

I'm wrinkled, saggy, lumpy, and that's just my left leg.
I'm having trouble remembering simple words like...
I'm beginning to realizing that aging is not for wimps.
I'm sure they are making adults much younger these days,
and when did they let kids become policemen?


I'm wondering, if you're only as old as you feel, how could I be alive at 150?

And, how can my kids be older than I feel sometimes?
I'm a walking storeroom of facts.....I've just lost the key to the storeroom door. 

                  

Yes, I'm a SENIOR CITIZEN

Reply
 Message 8 of 8 in Discussion 
From: JacqueSent: 12/9/2007 5:13 AM

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