When temperatures finally climb above the freezing mark
And the sun shines brightly in the winter sky above,
Icicles hanging from the eaves of most houses
Begin to melt and drip in tapering shapes.
And gradually the warmth turns ice
Into cold water that’s destined
To refreeze overnight until
The same thing happens
The very next day, and
Eventually, drip by
Drip, the entire
Icicle melts
In a pool
Of H2O.
P.S. Poetic form is a Shape Poem.
You can hope for a miracle in your life, or you can realize that your life is the miracle. ~Robert Brault, rbrault.blogspot.com
Today begins the annual National Prayer Vigil for Life, held in Washington, D.C., seeking an end to abortion and a greater respect for Life.
Now, I don’t normally get “preachy” in my posts, but something tells me that even pro-choice advocates can’t argue that Life is a treasure.
Success seems to be largely a matter of hanging on after others have let go. ~William Feather, American publisher and author
The servant appeared with a bag of food.
Food that looked tempting and awfully good.
Good it was cold outside and she hurried back in.
In a flash I raced up the pole and considered my win.
When I figure out how, I’m going to have a fine meal.
Meal of seeds I’ve earned through my zeal.
Zeal for things meant for others, that’s a fact.
Fact is, they share now or later I’ll attack!
Attract birds, you thought. What a waste of time.
Time better spent penning your book or a rhyme.
Rhyme this, silly servant, and just watch me succeed.
Succeed at getting from this slick pole to your seed!
P.S. Poetic form is Chain Verse.
I wonder whether other small business people — say, electricians or wedding planners — find themselves dealing with a potential Disaster Client.
Someone like Jackie (name changed to protect the guilty!).
“Google has detected that your site has been hacked by a third party who created malicious content on some of your pages.”
This was the message I received around Thanksgiving that sent me into a tailspin.
Dallas here.
Since Mama and The Kid (AKA Domer) are off to the movies — again! — I’m manning the computer.
There once was a squirrel so sweet
Who climbed up the house to eat.
He perched on the sill
And sat there quite still
Until it was time to repeat!
Note: Poetic form is a Limerick. This little darling scales up two stories to perch on our window sill nearly every day. He usually brings a spot of food with him, too. Just look at his tiny hands!! Domer is home for the holidays, so I’m taking a few days off to play. Merry Christmas, one and all — I’ll be back soon!
Duck…Duck…Sheep.
Wait, what?!?
Hugs are the universal medicine. ~Author Unknown
Something completely unexpected happened this weekend after I finished Confession.
(Now, for those who aren’t aware, “Confession” is more properly known as the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and Catholics are required to participate once a year — more often is generally preferred.)
The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over the harbor and city on silent haunches, and then moves on. — Carl Sandburg, American poet and winner of three Pulitzer Prizes
Musings by an ND Domer's Mom 