Potential Republican Crack-Up

[Laura Earl]

I have a concept in mind. :)

[NicknamedBob]

Here's how I celebrated celebrestival last year...

A Thought For The Old Year

“Happy New Year!” They all want to say,
With little regard for what’s slipping away,
A year of fond hopes and bright dreams is now gone,
And we only have thoughts of the new ones to dawn.

Take just a moment to think of the past,
The days now gone by that made memories last.
We had all the birthdays. We ate all the cake.
We had great good times and now, goodness sake,

They want to forget it with hardly a nod,
A whole year forgotten. I think that it’s odd.
One day, in our dotage, we’ll all reminisce,
On those “Good Old Days” we’re so willing to miss.

A thought for the old year seems timely tonight,
Its lengthening shadow drifts slowly from sight.
The old year departs with a staggering tread,
As we watch a new year toddle in, in its stead.

It will sleep with the others in a long endless pile,
But I’d like to point out that it went out with style.
There isn’t a doubt that it’s one for the books,
But it’s clearly not one we’d have chosen for looks.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . December 31, 2004

[Conspiracy Guy]

OK

[Conspiracy Guy]

I remember it and still like it. But I am offended.

[fanfan]

That was beautiful....see what I mean? :-)

[Hi Heels]

Thank you! It was my first. Isn't it beautiful?

[Hi Heels]

Oh, what the hell. Go over there after 'em. Kill CG, Kill.

[NicknamedBob]

"I remember it and still like it. But I am offended. "

I think you've got it wrong. That word in a foreign language you're looking for is 'effendi,' not 'offended.'

Will this "wreath" work for you?

Spinning

A wreath is a loop, it’s a circular thing,
But the way of our ways is more spiral than ring.
It circles around, that is true in its way,
But it doesn’t come back to the point where it lay.

It just carries on forward and makes a new start,
Putting down fresh material to cover that part.
A spiral, a turning, a twisting around,
As days follow days like the manna we found.

For manna from Heaven is the time we receive,
Every day, every morning, then we get up and leave,
Our abode and our comfort, in trust that we’ll find,
It will be there to hold us and help us unwind.

Every day as we dance, through our pirouette style,
We lay out our moments like a gossamer mile,
Of thin silken fibers of dreams and intent,
As we spin our life’s work in the days that we’ve spent.

With our neighbors and friends as we dodge and we dance,
With the warp and the weft, and some colors perchance,
We are making a tapestry, each one in our way,
Contributes a part with his actions that day.

And Who is the artist? The Weaver sublime?
The patient Director Who gathers up time?
Why, Who else would it be but the Master of days?
Making silk from the cobwebs we’ve strewn in His ways.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . . August 23, 2005

[Laura Earl]

Nice wreath, but for celebrestival, it must have boobage.

[Conspiracy Guy]

OK

[Conspiracy Guy]

Sure is a lot of rhyming there.

[NicknamedBob]

"... for celebrestival, it must have boobage."

Criticism accepted, but I'll need help with that.

I'm pretty sure it needs beerage, too.

[Laura Earl]

most definitely!

[NicknamedBob]

"Sure is a lot of rhyming there."

That darn rhymebush is in season again. I have to get rid of the stuff somewhere.

[tuliptree76]

'Morning, Bob. :-)

[Conspiracy Guy]

Laura Earl has boobage in spades.

[Conspiracy Guy]

I dug my rhymebush up. But a new one is trying to replace it.

[NicknamedBob]

"Laura Earl has boobage in spades."

No wonder you like digging things up.

[Hi Heels]

And here we all thought YOU were her boob......

*ducks*

[Hi Heels]

Kinda like those damn walnut trees.....