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| Tomorrow. I am Officially an old FART. How I lived to be 79 will be a mystery to me! I can't walk, get out of bed with ease, or finish many of the chores I had planned to accomplish at my new digs! Still breathing, but that is about it! |
Well happy early birthday! Ah getting older, the one thing all humans have in common  Well, the one's who live long enough  |
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| · Tomorrow in 1986 Challenger exploded on lift off!. This was my tribute to the crew We did not die in vain Why did we die? That's what we do, As those have done before. We've done it since the world was young, To open up the door. The frontier is our constant goal, To see what may be found Beyond the distant the mountain range; Across the wave-swept sound. In ships of skin, or wood, or steel We sail the unmapped sea. From shore to shore, from earth to moon, Into the galaxy. We are the ones who blaze the trail. Our bones we leave behind. To mark the way as milestones Along the roads we find. We are the ones who always dare, What others fear to do. To cast a light into the dark Exposing all to view. Many of us die unknown With none to know our name. Others blaze in history In never ending fame. Shackleton and Peary are names You should know well. Grissom, White and Chaffee be Among the ones who fell. We join them, and the legions Before us on the trail, To go where "Thyre be Dragons", They died... But did not fail. We too have left the living. We ask you not to grieve. We did not want your sorrow. This you must believe. Celebrate instead our glory. And take the paths we trod. While stand we with the heros Beside the throne of God. Don't let our deaths be wasted. Don't let it be in vain. We're waiting and we're watching For a ship to sail again. The universe is waiting The next big step is Mars To complete our final mission and go on... to reach the stars.{/b} |
| When I write, I never know where I'll end up! The stories just lead me from start to finish. I do not plot, or outline. Songs, poems, or stories start from a phrase I heard, or something I saw! To write a song to fit a theme causes me great difficulty! I seldom, never in fact, Write about me, incidents from my life, or knowledge, of a scene from my life. I am never writing about specifics from my life, or person. I sing songs that I like, for whatever reason, and when it is a song by another singer/writer/composer, live with it, sometimes for months, Until IT says, "this is what I want you to do with me!" |
A badly written poem about Christmas. |
| Bon Nadal, Feliz Navidad, Gajan Kristnaskon, Joyeaux Noël, Buon Natale or Buone Feste Natalizie, Natale hilare, et Annum Faustum, Feliz Natal, Bo Nada, een plesierige kerfees, I'D MIILAD SAID OUA SANA SAIDA, Shenoraavor Nor Dari yev Pari Gaghand Azeri, Tezze Iliniz Yahsi Olsun, -Zorionak eta Urte Berri On, geseënde Kersfees, gëzuar Krishtlindja, gleckika Wïanachta, miilaad majiid, Eguberri on, subho baradin, Nedeleg laouen, Vasel Koleda, Chris, Mele Kalikimaka, Cristmas, Eguberri,圣诞节快乐,聖誕節快樂 I'm a little early and if I missed anybody, forgive me. Merry Christmas to all the Christians and the same in as many languages as I can find, as listed above. Bless you all of whatever persuasion, and may your days be full of joy and Love. The reason for Christmas was the birth of a child. A child whose message has lasted for ages. Fractured a bit by nit-picking and dissension, and endless argument about the translations of a book written initially by the Essenes, and purported by some to be written by the direct guidance of GOD! Many of the scrolls from which THE BOOK was taken were ignored by the Christian church, because they did not fit the political views of "The Church" of the time. We are left with an expurgated version that was fabricated to keep the peasants in line. How-some-ever, the fact remains that the birth of the child Jesus, the founder of the Christian religions, is the reason the day is considered one wherein we should all rejoice. MERRY CHRISTMAS. I repeat. MERRY CHRISTMAS. Not "happy whatever you want" day. |
| As often happens, Real Life gets in the way. I have been told that I've not been using the site. To be truthful I visit every day. I've not added to my PORT, nor commented too often, but, contrary to the filters have been here daily. {e:Laugh) |
Well, nice to hear from you, stranger!  Real life does have a funny way of doing that. I know it all too well, personally. One of the great things about the site is that you can become quiet for months and then just pick up where you left off as though nothing happened. We all have to do it now and then. Hopefully at some point, real life will calm down enough so that you can write, chat, and have fun! |
| Eye halve a spelling chequer It came with my pea sea It plainly marques four my revue Miss steaks eye kin knot sea. Eye strike a key and type a word And weight four it two say Weather eye am wrong oar write It shows me strait a weigh. As soon as a mist ache is maid It nose bee fore two long And eye can put the error rite Its rare lea ever wrong. Eye have run this poem threw it I am shore your pleased two no Its letter perfect awl the weigh My chequer tolled me sew. |
| Life is like a river, It is filled with rapids, waterfalls and eddies, that seem to keep you suspended in a whirl. If you go with the current you will sometimes be elated, dropped to the depths of your emotion, and seemingly be stuck in a backwater you cannot escape. Let the river go where it will. Sooner or later it will take you to the Ocean and beyond horizons you cannot imagine. Don't push the river! |
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