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 |  Thoughts and deeds taking me on my path toward insanity. |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Please visit me for updates on the Myth to Life series as well as other writings, don't forget to leave a message in the guestbook, and join the site at: http://www.eairwin.webs.com I would love to hear from you! |
~ Quote of the Day ~ "If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun" ~ Katherine Hepburn Hey Everyone; It seems I can't stop writing. AGGGH! Hypergraphia is not one of my addictions, it just seems that way.  My sister called today, well yesterday for those not here in California, and wanted me to spend the weekend with her. Pray there is no cleaning involved. I do not want to clean, I do not want to clean. I want to play.  So I'm off for a few days with hopes of some sort of adventure in the offing. Even if I just sit at her house and watch television it will be a change of scenery. I'm up for that after staring at my handwriting and a computer screen for too long. One thing I will tell you, is that when the Matthews' sisters get together it can be a tad frightening to those not on our wavelength. We have that weird wiring in our brains that all we have to do is look at each other and pretty much know what the other is thinking. Usually I can read her better than she does me, but if there's someone else in the area and they're a bit odd, you can be sure we're thinking the same thing and saying the same words in our head at the same time. My friend, Scott, used to have Pictionary parties at his house years ago. My sister and I were forced to be on opposite teams because everyone thought it unfair we play together. Spoil sports. So I don't know what the weekend holds, all I know is it will be different than the one I had planned - editing three stories and filling out paperwork that needs to be completed by the end of the weekend. I guess I'll cram all of that activity into the hours I should be sleeping while I'm at her house. What's a girl to do? Hey, maybe the weekend will be pirate-y. I could use a good sword fight.  Okay, peeps, I'll catch up with you in a few days. I'm granting myself time off for good behavior. Well, some kind of behavior.  Ta, P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ "We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are." ~Anaïs Nin Hello people; It’s been a while since I’ve written here. An ongoing project for my mother has consumed parts of my days, as well as the hum-drum things of everyday life—a mundanity of human experience played out in regular time and space instead of the three-quarter beat of a luxurious waltz danced in an opulent ballroom. I feel like waltzing today, though I sway alone in a cramped space while tunes drift aimlessly through my head, as if I were one with Strauss moving through a different era. I wished for different clothing other than what I had donned—a blue plaid affair given to me by my mother, the large pattern adding sighted girth to my pudginess, making me feel like Paul Bunyan on estrogen. The thought of Babe the Blue Ox, waiting to whisk me away for a change of scenery becoming enticing as I stared my four walls decorated with bits and pieces of art, wishing I were viewing museum pieces at the Hermitage or the Louvre instead of sitting in front of a computer screen. Decorated is a loose term with this room’s walls since I just took some items from my upstairs loft that made me somewhat happy. Mainly it’s a mish-mash of salon-styled madness, a wall to wall collection of some personally painted oils, a beautiful large picture of an Irish castle and lake with a blue dinghy in the foreground hanging over my bed, a print of teacups with the following quote surrounding their layout “Thank goodness for tea! What would the world do without tea? How did the world exist? I am glad I was not born before tea!”, a print of Waterhouse’s Lady of Shallot, a small picture in a gilt frame of bluebirds sitting on a branch with their bird nest, and a photograph I picked up on a vacation—one of my favorites—a cobalt blue window set in a deep rust adobe wall with pink hollyhocks growing in front of the lacy view, their spires reaching skyward without shame. Oh and I can’t forget the framed corkboard hanging on my closet door next to me, a convenience as I research or plot, jamming sticky-notes onto paneled spaces, or jabbing blue pins in the cork to hang a moon-profile in silver, given to me by my sister since she always tries to encourage me, with a quote from Edith Wharton—“There are two ways of spreading light; to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it”, a small calendar with views of unusual doors and gardens, and my prayer list with the word ‘hope’ sculpted in brass hanging next to it. A large bookcase blocks the door to the kitchen, one of two in my small room (doors that is, the other bookcase holds electronics, CD’s and tapes plus a small collection of cobalt glass items). When I look to the left while sitting at my computer, I see part of a collection of books, most double deep, ranging from music scores, medical-terminology and assisting textbooks, writing magazines and books—my newest additions The Criminal Mind, Book of Poisons, and Forensics for Dummies, plus a collection of Agatha Christie mysteries, a few quite old but not first editions. My least favorite books and most needed—those telling me daily I simply will never understand where to put that roaming comma. The dictionaries I love; French (which I will probably die before I learn), Crossword, Synonyms and Antonyms, mythology, etc., and my most used and abused boyfriends—Merriam and Webster. Today I rested from writing after over three weeks of pushing. A long piece now finally completed and put to bed. A piece which brought me great joy to write—perhaps one day to make its way somewhere when the right time and audience join in harmonic convergence. Until then it has put down its roots and with hope will grow fruit to share to a waiting world. As I sit here, having shared the contents inside my cramped little room, I realize I am indeed very fortunate despite my often trying circumstances. I am alive, able to enjoy the mismatched furniture and assorted art (some of which would be considered quite tedious or mundane by those who know), able to read the books, new and used, able to listen to the music sometimes played on antique electronics, able to share my life through the words swimming in my head, whether they are brilliant or just plain whacked, but most of all able to give thanks for the chance to continue just being me. So, as I dance to the tune in my head, I realize it’s my own personal symphony. It’s been a long time coming . . . I finally like me. I'll leave a little poem I wrote that explains a little about me. I know, it's all about the blonde. Ta and peace, P Song Of Me In The Key Of ‘P’ A head of tousled golden hair frames a face considered fair, with pouting smile unless its wide, upon my cheek small dimple resides, but what about the eyes, those windows of my soul, the colors wash across them in a spectrum of the sea, from gray to green a multitude of blues lie in-between, expressions like storm clouds gather until relieved by calm, but what goes on inside the mind some just consider blonde. What do I witness when watching from the deep recesses of hidden thoughts— do my hopes, dreams, daily passions decorate my guileless face with pleasure others have unsuccessfully sought, or what of the horror of which I write, is this what turns the mischievous beckoning of my eyes impish without a guiding light from above, or is it the revelation of God’s light that allows me to search through darkened evil without fear. Singer, artist, would be author, math award winner who can no longer balance a checkbook, sometimes doesn’t bother anyone sure I can struggle through convinced it will make me stronger. I laugh at that wild imagining, struggle only makes me tired. A mystery I am, a conundrum of indignation and grace, a tightrope walker without a net, quiet soul with boisterous laugh in constant configuration of how life is approached, never satisfied, and yet, what makes me tick within the shell of a woman few will ever know, could it be that I will never tell, afraid misperception of unwillingness to divulge my inner man is always misconstrued, allowing hurt and pain from those who only want a show, or, is it the discomfort I feel from those with whom I invest my trust and they refuse to honor it. Friendly, helpful, unsparkling conversationalist, funny, thoughtful, rarely makes a list, and back to God, I never really answered that burning question—my faith runs deep, my trust in Him has never wavered, I’ve witnessed hate, and love, and anguish, heard myself speaking of the insanity of me, though here I sit, writing out this wish for a new day that will end in eternity. I’m sure some wonder what became of the chubby, blonde little girl— she grew up, conquered, faltered, and altered, and even to me I’m an enigma in this world. |
~ Quote of the Day ~ "And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt." ~Sylvia Plath Hello people; I hope to be back tomorrow and spread something inane and off-kilter. Why break my stride? Until then, while I continue writing, I leave all of you writers still hanging in there with this. Consider it my homage to your angst. The Battlefield The battlefield lies before me, wasteland of plastic fallen warriors, life’s blood drawn from hollow barrels spilt to dry upon the lined page of conformity. Jagged edges jerked from a central spiral spine decorate crumpled balls cast on hardened ground. Heroes—villains—lovers wage war across open white space until their final sentencing. Anise and cinnamon waft toward me as if warm trade winds blew across scented water, tastes of the exotic wash across my tongue as I sip the nectar of sustenance while swallowing a bitter pill. Unable to break the barrier between fact and fantasy, there remains a constant search for the ephemeral where words meet paper and coexist in perfected peace. Until then, another exhausted warrior falls from my tired hand, sharing space with the floor clutter of incomplete thoughts hidden between the lines. Undaunted, I choose another soldier and begin my battle anew. Ta and peace, P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ I often work by avoidance. Brian Eno Hello people; I thought I'd pop in and give my brain a little bit of a rest. Actually, I'm avoiding going back to writing. Something I've been doing for days and I need to get the bloody thing finished, but I've run out of words there so I thought I'd send a hey your way. Well, I submitted a piece a month ago and got a rejection on it, but I also got another little piece accepted at MicroHorror. The editor sent a nice note telling me to send him other things if I wanted. I think he's just gathering an archive of horror, but at least I have two pieces there and he and I are enjoying the reads. Undaunted, or ignorant might be a better word, I submitted another short to the place that rejected my first story. I think mainly I want to see what they're going to say when they reject that piece. I've read the authors on the site and still can't figure out why they made it to the list. And really, I'm not hurt, just mystified. Actually, when I read a few of the stories I wasn't sure if I even got the gist of them. So I suppose ignorant is the word to use. Some are those stories that don't quite have a plot or the plot is so obscure you aren't sure you found it? These are the highly praised stories and everyone says how enlightened and tremendous the stories are. I just press delete from my inbox and say, okay, I'm out of the loop on that one. Try, try again. I've given up being hurt at this point because I haven't sent something monumental to a publishing house yet, that might be real cry time when the rejections start rolling in. Oh well, such is the life of an unknown writer. Now all I need is a day job to fall back on. I hope all of you are well. Yesterday we had a huge storm blast through the valley. It's been sunny a bit and then the rain started again and it's continuing. I was out the day before with my mother getting sandbags to put along the side of part of the house since it's a bit lower than the neighbor's house. At least our house didn't get the wind this time although it's been wildly hammering California and the west coast. How are you doing Char-girl? Is Washington now an island? Lost power for around eight hours so my writing time was lost, yeah like it mattered.  Well I best get back to the pen on paper gig. Somedays it's like writing in the mud. Take care everyone. Ta and peace, P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves. ~ Victor Frankl The only difference between a rut and a grave is their dimensions. ~ Ellen Glasgow Hello Everyone: I know, once again proclaiming to the untold masses I’m here, read me, as if I were Evita Peron standing on her balcony, arms outstretched, admired by her people just for being her. Another blonde run amok. Hey, did you know that when she died they embalmed her with paraffin or some such substance (I really should check it out for you, but can’t you just do it and save me the angst?) so that her body, lying in her glass coffin, still looks as fresh as the day she died? Just a crazy side bar here. I haven’t been around due to a cold which has me in its ugly grip. The best is that I had taken Zicam near Christmas and didn’t catch my sister’s cold. My mother came down with a whopper of a cold, I kept up the Zicam as if it were crack, hey, seemed to work, the cold never fully started. I thought, wow, I’m safe, look at me I’m a Zicam wonder, I have beaten the cold down until it remains pulp beneath my feet. The moment I stopped taking Zicam, bam, you guessed it—one doozy of a thing that remains steadfast in its muckiness. Obviously, I’m not a good patient and the fever burned out the remaining cells I was using as I dug through the cabinet and got out the trusty bottle of Robitussin. Sheesh. My sister was off work during the holidays so I spent some time with her doing Christmas shopping and helped with the holiday decorations at her apartment. I didn’t decorate anything this year. A whole ugly story written into the annals of Christmas decorations past, but to this crazy decorator, it was like tying my hands behind my back while I had to sing lauds to the barrenness of my home. I digress. Anyway, she said she needed my help to get things in order which I did so her place looked festive and inviting. We’re a pretty tame group at holidays, something I’m kind of happy about since the holidays are emotionally wild enough without a party. All that hidden angst lying in wait for a twinkle light and glass ornament poised on a tree to burgeon forth into an unruly fight happens, I can only imagine the situation stoked with an abundance of alcohol. So instead of going for the throat, we go to Blockbusters and rent movies. Actually I bought Shrek at Thanksgiving and we watched that and screamed hysterically because it was the funniest of the three movies thus far. And my nephew had another animated movie which was fun to watch as well, so the evening was fun. Christmas, my sister rented Ratatouille, which I had wanted to see (I just like animated nice moves despite what I write) along with Stardust, and the final two episodes of the Pirates of the Caribbean stories. My mother doesn’t like pirates or swords, so my sister and I made another play date to watch those. Ratatouille was very nice and funny, Stardust was an action/adventure/fantasy movie that was a wild romp. The pirate movies? Well what can I say but arrrrrgh matey. Hoist the flag we’re going out for a wild ride. I like adventure but I’ll admit after watching them back to back, almost six hours it seemed, I was exhausted. My nephew asked what I was doing the week after Christmas. I told him looking for a rich husband so I could be a write-off for his taxes. My sister looked at me and said, “You’re going to be busy this week.” My nephew said, “Wow, all I wanted was you to take me to the electronics store so I could get some more parts. That trumped me.” Needless to say none of you got an announcement so the gig didn’t happen. Although I did flirt with a man (I’ll say that loosely because he was probably under 21) at Borders one night. He was trapped by me and couldn’t get away since he was the cashier and had to ring my order. Such is life. This brought us to New Year’s. I didn’t go anywhere, haven’t for a few years. I know, the ultimate party pooper. So instead, I watched an entire night of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies on TMC and listened to the rain of bullets around my house from those that think we live in Beirut. Apparently those shooting don’t subscribe to the laws of physics for things going up having to come down—usually through someone’s roof. The movies were great fun since I love all those old musicals, love to dance and sing, and like to gaze at the sets and costumes. I’m a dork, what can I say? I even found myself dancing around the kitchen as I made cookies out of two ingredients and they ended up tasting like Girl Scout mint cookies. If you’re nice I’ll give you the ingredients, of not, you’ll have to pay twelve dollars for a box when the nymph dressed in green knocks on your door. I didn’t see the ball drop only the immediate aftermath as I turned the station and honed in on New York. Does this mean I missed out because I didn’t get to countdown from ten? Gee, I hope not, but ringing in the New Year without doing that did seem odd. I hope all of you had a wonderful Christmas and New Year’s season. And here we sit after surviving turkey, fruitcake, and egg nog, plummeted into another year, 2008, and what the heck are we gonna do with it? Most of the world begins the year after making resolutions about something—losing weight, giving up smoking, exercising more, cleaning their house, etc., etc. Dance for me Yul. It seems, the resolution making thing, is a never-ending cycle of decision making without a clear strategy or exit plan. Sure, I’ve make lots of resolutions in my life. Weight seems to be the big one topping the scale and the most tragic one because you can’t just stop eating like you do with smoking. And smokers, don’t go all frantic and panicky on me, I smoked and was able to finally end that cycle of addiction as well as a few other addictions. Here’s the catch with resolutions. Most are made half-heartedly by well-intentioned individuals. We want to change, but change actually takes time and a concerted amount of action. It isn’t something that comes with magic pixie dust (unless you’re doing drugs) that’s blown on the problem, and poof, viola, the problem is solved. To alter one’s behavior, which is the crux of the resolution conundrum, takes at least twenty-one days, and all you are doing is substituting another better habit for the bad habit you’re trying to get rid of. Which isn’t a bad thing, that’s how behavior modification works. But you have to ask yourself, do I want to just modify my behavior, or really change my life? That’s a hard question to ask and requires a great deal of soul-searching to come up with a plan and answer. Just like everything else in your life that is worthwhile, you have to remain steadfast to the idea and plan that you can change and it takes hard work to make that change. The problem is people don’t want to work hard for that change; they get tired of the new routine and fall back to what is comfortable, even if it is bad. I stopped making New Year’s resolutions, because to me, resolutions represented failure not the success I wanted in the ultimate goal. And I know because I’ve made lots of plans and resolutions and failed at all of them. The past few years I’ve done things differently. I’ve still failed at the weight thing, the chocolate situation is being modified to a degree that can be somewhat successful, but I’ve also tried taking back bits and pieces of me that were getting lost in the anxiety of life, urgent situations, and people plain old stealing joy from me and me letting them. (That’s a hard one and something I’ll be working on for quite some time) Sometimes it takes a powerful thing, like getting very ill to put one’s life in perspective. I didn’t start with a resolution, but I did become resolute in my behavior. There is a difference. Also I think people get the idea that a resolution is an epiphany, which it can be, but people use that phrase so often the true meaning has been lost to the masses, just like all the other catch-phrases people use to up the ante in their personal lives for others making the phrase mean absolutely nothing. An epiphany is true behavioral change, not merely modification. I have had a few epiphanies as I’ve walked my long road of life, and when an epiphany occurs it changes you, makes you realize the experience is far removed from the aspect of a faulted half-baked resolution, so that you finally understand the two ideas don’t reside in the same space. Not everyone has to have an epiphany to change. But you have to know the difference if you really want to change your life. It’s hard work, it’s worth the time it takes to see fruit grow from barren ground. It’s worth it to know, wow, how wonderful it is to be burden free. We can’t change what we don’t acknowledge. We can’t acknowledge the true problem without self-introspection of our lives. But once faced, the fear of change does just that—changes. Here’s to a new year—one filled with great promise and lacking the mistakes of the past. Don’t be afraid to step out and say, hey, watch me change, I’m liking the new me for once. Ta and peace P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ "Happy New Year Everyone!" Here's to a wonderful new year. May each of you have all your dreams come true. P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ But can one still make resolutions when one is over forty? I live according to twenty-year-old habits. ~Andre Gide Hello people; While everyone is getting ready to say goodbye to the year 2007 tomorrow night, I thought I'd give you a little funny in advance. I think this may be one of the reasons I quit going to crazy parties. Enjoy, I'll be back tomorrow after another 12 doses of Zicam. Ta and peace . . . most of all be safe, P, party pooper still wearing my hat. Signs You're At A Bad New Year's Eve Party... 1. To give it a Times Square feel, everyone is groped, fondled and pick-pocketed 2. The 'Party Hats' look suspiciously like stolen traffic cones 3. There's a "Happy 2007" sticker on the packet of shrimp you've been eating all night 4. It's January 6th 5. Prison regulations require lights out at 10:00 pm 6. The guests have decided to start the midnight countdown at 10,000 7. At midnight everyone gathers around to watch your Uncle Earl's pants drop 8. You hear a guy doing a count down before using the bathroom 9. The 'Champagne' tastes suspiciously like apple juice mixed with Alka Seltzer |
~ Quote of the Day ~ Consciousness: that annoying time between naps. ~Author Unknown Hello everyone; I hope all of you enjoyed your Christmas holiday and are recuperating sufficiently to survive until New Years! In the spirit of the day after Christmas, I've included a little funny to get you through the day. Be back tomorrow ... Ta and peace, P One Day After Christmas... It's one day after Christmas I'm crabby and I'm broke. I'm so full of ham and fruitcake I think I'm gonna croak. It's nice to see the relatives I wonder when they'll leave. They've been camping in my bathroom since early Christmas Eve. They're eating everything in sight and sleeping in my bed. I been sacked out in the basement with my beagle, Fred. The relatives have all gone out and left their screaming brats. The toilet bowl is all plugged up and I can't find the cat. It's Christmastime at my house, the relatives are here. They eat me out of house and home. and drink up all my beer. I love the decorations, and the sleigh bells in the snow But I wish those pesky relatives would take their kids and go. Those cookie crunchers fed the dog a twenty pound rib roast. His feet are sticking in the air like skinny old fence posts. Now they're in a free-for-all, the girls against the boys. They're fighting over boxes 'cause they're bored with all their toys My mother-in-law is snoring in my favorite TV chair. Those kids are stringing lights on her and tinseling her hair I oughta wake her up before the fireworks begin. But I wanna see those blue sparks fly when they plug her in. http://www.joke-of-the-day.com/ |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The Christmas Story Luke 2 1 And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. 2 (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) 3 And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. 4 And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) 5 To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. 6 And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. 7 And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. 8 And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. 10 And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. 11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. 12 And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 14 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. 15 And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. 16 And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. 17 And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. 18 And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. 19 But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart. 20 And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them. 21 And when eight days were accomplished for the circumcising of the child, his name was called JESUS, which was so named of the angel before he was conceived in the womb. 22 And when the days of her purification according to the law of Moses were accomplished, they brought him to Jerusalem, to present him to the Lord; 23 (As it is written in the law of the LORD, Every male that openeth the womb shall be called holy to the Lord;) 24 And to offer a sacrifice according to that which is said in the law of the Lord, A pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons. 25 And, behold, there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon; and the same man was just and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel: and the Holy Ghost was upon him. 26 And it was revealed unto him by the Holy Ghost, that he should not see death, before he had seen the Lord's Christ. 27 And he came by the Spirit into the temple: and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him after the custom of the law, 28 Then took he him up in his arms, and blessed God, and said, 29 Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: 30 For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, 31 Which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; 32 A light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel. 33 And Joseph and his mother marvelled at those things which were spoken of him. 34 And Simeon blessed them, and said unto Mary his mother, Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against; 35 (Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also,) that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed. 36 And there was one Anna, a prophetess, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Aser: she was of a great age, and had lived with an husband seven years from her virginity; 37 And she was a widow of about fourscore and four years, which departed not from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day. 38 And she coming in that instant gave thanks likewise unto the Lord, and spake of him to all them that looked for redemption in Jerusalem. 39 And when they had performed all things according to the law of the Lord, they returned into Galilee, to their own city Nazareth. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnHksDFHTQI ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** May you each experience His freely given love during this Blessed Christmas season and throughout the coming New Year. Merry Christmas everyone! Each of you are very special to me. I leave you with one of my favorite Christmas songs until we next meet. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cC9o4oYMIqI Patricia |
~ Quote of the Day ~ For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:6 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2UIG5GSbq8 My Grown-up Christmas Wish Do you remember me? I sat upon your knee I wrote to you with childhood fantasies Well I'm all grown up now Can you still help somehow? I'm not a child, but my heart still can dream So here's my lifelong wish My grown-up Christmas list Not for myself, but for a world in need No more lives torn apart That wars would never start And time would heal all hearts Every man would have a friend That right would always win And love would never end This is my grown-up Christmas list What is the illusion called "The innocence of youth"? Maybe only in that blind belief can we ever find the truth No more lives torn apart That wars would never start And time would heal all hearts Every man would have a friend That right would always win And love would never end This is my grown-up Christmas list This is my only lifelong wish This is my grown-up Christmas list Songwriters: David Foster, Linda Thompson-Jenner http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iOic7t1kZog&feature=related I wish each of you peace on this Christmas Eve. Patricia ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
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