“Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.”
“Trees are your best antiques.”
“For fast acting relief, try slowing down.”
~ Lily Tomlin
The rest of vagrant days,
of warm pillows and love,
soft morning light leaking in.
The alchemy of coffee and toast.
Holding that moment,
embracing the silence,
Knowing looks with no silent agendas,
the promise of this day,
a promise of serenity.
Each and every moment
Is its own poetry
The tick of a clock
The turning of a page
Each drop of rain
The cry of a baby
The wag of a tail
In every moment
Poetry is created
A poem exists
In the beat of a heart
The blink of any eye
On the wings of a butterfly
A musical note
The scent of a flower
The purr of a cat
Poetry is everywhere
Inside and outside
All around about
Be in the moment
Be the poetry
You are meant to be
~The Tennessee Poet~
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You might already know how to make gladioli last a long time, but I learned something new this week. This is info straight from the vendor at the market who sells these flowers and nothing else: if you want gladioli to last a long time the trick is to use ice cubes. Change the water twice a day and each time, add some ice cubes. Cut the base of the stems once a day. Keep out of full sun. The flowers will open slowly and last all week. I bought these on Saturday and they were completely closed but this method seems to work as predicted.
Will You Still Remember
When your legs don’t work like they used to
And my eyes become caged within lens
When you lose your penchant for make-up
And my face becomes wrinkled
Will I still find solace in the smile from your face?
When 30m becomes a long distance
And age takes it’s toll on your memory
When I can no longer bend to kiss your lips
And you can’t leap to lose my old tie
Will I still find comfort in the truths from your lips?
Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?
Will your ears still hear my dwindling voice?
Will you still remember how firm our hugs were?
Will the birds remind you of our late night walks?
Will you nose still smell my fading fragrance?
When my hair is all but grey
And your mouth lose its taste
When long chats don’t interest…
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