the scone close up
By the way the only pictures I took of all these were the scone pictures:o
Some time ago I wrote this poem as I went. Meaning, I made it up as I went along, so it is surely not the best ever poem, but I do hope you enjoy.
I’ve got the blues.
And the cow moos.
My life’s goin’ down,
I always wear a frown.
“Why is life so hard?”
I wonder at the bar.
Beer ain’t good no more,
Body’s just feelin’ sore,
Life’s just a bore.
I wish there was meaning;
Wish there was heart cleaning.
Why are things so bad?
Nothin’ ain’t glad,
At least I’m always sad.
Where can I find joy?
Like when I was a boy?
But that didn’t last,
It’s gone and passed,
As I can now see.
I just wish I was happy.
Where can I find what I’m lookin’ for?
Maybe I need to look to the Lord.
I’ve thought of that before;
To proud to actually do it.
Now maybe I should actually look into it.
I’ll look for my old Bible.
I found the helpful tool,
I read it through and through,
Just to see what it could do.
Wow! Was I amazed!
Wasn’t bored, but crazed.
I gave my life to God.
To me that used to be odd,
I’ll read it every day.
You should too, is what I’ll say.
What do you think?
Have a nice day.
I didn’t want to post about our “big” snow in February too soon after the snow, because I thought folks might be tired of seeing the white pictures. Therefore, I am now going to show you some more beauty.
Well, that was fun! Basically we had a great time sledding and being with our neighbors.
Hope you’ve been enjoying the ice we’ve had! Haha!
I steadily climbed upward to the quaint tree plat-form perched in the thick friendly Beech tree. The icy fingers of a raw breeze touched my skin and blew my hair gently. Pulling myself up I looked down below to see the trunk of the Beech tree wearily making its way to the ground.
To the north Pine trees stood dignified amidst deciduous trees. A Nuthatch also chirped behind me.
From the south and east, Hawks flew threw the air harshly scolding each other. “Me-ahhh, me-ahhh, me-ahhh,” Peacocks chorused off in the distance. The sun had risen and now around the seventh hour of the day it sparkled brilliantly across the land warming me. Up the hill just a few yards away stood our house, stately watching over the property.
All around me a few early March birds whistled a tune every now and then. A small flock of birds flew overhead. The cold brisk air of the morning threatened to paralyze me with numbness.
From the west I heard a Woodpecker hammer on a tree far out. The fresh morning air gently touched me on the nose. I climbed down the tree as slowly as a snail and trudged back to the house, leaving the beautiful morning land behind.
I really like this song and very touching.
Sun comes up – Sunday morn
On the little church where I been since I was born
And there he stood – a hearty smile
You could hear his voice ringing out for a country mile
And he could place your mind at ease
With his tenderness and a heart
That aimed to please
A pauper’s hands – a farmer’s clothes
Just a preacher man we called Kentucky rose
He worked the soul like he worked the land
He spoke in ways that anyone could understand
Simple words of simple faith
And when it came to love
He would go out of his way
A helping hand
A soothing chat
And he practiced what he preached – imagine that
And as far as kindness goes
There was none compared to old Kentucky rose
Evening stroll ‘cross Shyler’s bridge
That’s when he saw the boy
Trapped below that rocky ridge
He knew the danger he would face
But it’s as if he saved the child
Only to take his place
For on that ridge of stone and ice
Kentucky met his maker in a sacrifice
Why he’s gone
God only knows
Maybe for the company of his Kentucky rose
So peaceful in his Sunday best
He was buried on a hill and laid to rest
When people heard they came in droves
To say their last good-byes to sweet Kentucky rose
Now, on that hill
One flower grows
They say it’s the spirit of Kentucky rose…
Drip, drip, drip! The snow slowing turns into splashing waterfalls. Sparkling diamonds decorate the land. 6 inches of snow just yesterday and now decreased to only small patches of white here and there and big patches of muddy ground everywhere. The rain-spouts have turned into drums with the melting snow as its drumsticks. It’s in the 60 s! No sledding now! Everyone’s stripped down to shorts and tees. “Let’s go to the beach!” everything seems to cry out.
Everybody gets outside in the sunny melting world. Slipping and sliding about, the ground is more muddy than expected. The feel of summer is in the air. We liked the snow, but this weather has got us summer-ready. We’re all happy and sunny and think winter’s at its close. But…
The next day it’s only 23 degrees! Cold wind whips through the bare winter trees. Cloudy and freezing. Cold once again. Surprise? Hey, this is NC.