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Posted on 06/25/2005 9:22:33 PM PDT by Soaring Feather
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Oh so lovely, thank you.
HUGS
How so very debonair you were,
stating with poise your prose,
coming home a 3rd place winner
and, not a nerve in your body froze.
rim 8/25/05
Good evening, Hope. such a lovely poem, thank you so much.
*HUGS*
If ya wanna win, ya sticks yer neck out and hope no one chops it off. :)
And you go where angels fear to tread.
The Fortune Telling Scale
A nun was going to Chicago. She went to the airport and sat down waiting for her flight. She looked over in the corner of the waiting room and saw a weighing machine that also tells your fortune. So, she thought to herself, "I'll give it a try just to see what it tells me.".
She went over to the machine, put a quarter in, and out came a card that read, "You're a nun who weighs 128 pounds and you're going to Chicago, Illinois."
She sat down and thought about it. She reasoned that it probably tells everyone the same thing, but decided to try it again. She went back to the machine, put her quarter in, and out came a card that read, "You're a nun, you weigh 128 pounds, you're going to Chicago, Illinois, and you're going to play a fiddle." The nun said to herself, "I know that's wrong! I have never played a musical instrument a day in my life."
She sat back down when out of nowhere a cowboy sat next to her and set his fiddle case in the seat next to the lady. The nun picked up the fiddle and played the most beautiful music, as if she had been playing for years. Startled, she looked back at the machine and said, "This is incredible! I've got to try it again!"
Back to the machine she went. She put her quarter in and another card came out that read, "You're a nun, you weigh 128 pounds, you're going to Chicago, Illinois, and you're going to break wind." Now the nun knew the machine was wrong. "I've never broken wind in public a day in my life!" She turned around and tripped, falling off the scale, breaking wind. Stunned, she sat back down and looked at the machine. She said to herself, This is truly unbelievable! I've got to try it again!"
She went back to the machine, put in a quarter, and collected the card. It said, "You're a nun, you weigh 128 pounds, you have fiddled and farted around and missed your plane to Chicago!!!"
rim 8/25/05
Our Miss Feather's
so angelic
a heavenly treat
awwwww . . .
ain't she sweet!!! . . . .;-)
Not my post. But I thought this poem was worth sharing.
When I was young, my Dad would say
Come on, Son let's go out and play
Sometimes it seems like yesterday
And I'd climb up the closet shelf
When I was all by myself
Grab his hat and fix the brim
Pretending I was him
No matter how hard I try
No matter how many tears I cry
No matter how many years go by
I still can't say good-bye
He always took care of Mom and me.
We all cut down a Christmas tree
He always had some time for me
Wind blows through the trees
Streetlights, they still shine bright
Most things are the same
But I miss my Dad tonight
I walked by a Salvation Army store
Saw a hat like my daddy wore
Tried it on when I walked in
Still trying to be like him
No matter how hard I try
No matter how many tears I cry
No matter how many years go by
I still can't say good-bye
I miss you, Dad.
11 posted on 08/26/2005 12:13:19 AM EDT by Marauder (You can't stop sheep-killing predators by putting more restrictions on the sheep.)
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Welcome to Marauder.
Thank you JJ for bring this poem into the Lair.
Marauder, this is a very fine poem.
Please feel free to post here anytime.
That was a tune done by the late great Chet Atkins, a man whose guitar technique and pure heart captured me when I was just a kid. Chet wasn't the greatest singer, but he did OK, and his guitar style was beyond compare.
It's due to my sheer admiration for him that I'm a guitarist today, and I only wish I could come close to his talent.
Chet Atkins is a favorite of mine, too. He was a master of guitar. Often I play his music.
Who said? Love is the hardest habit to break, and
the most difficult to satisfy
Wow.
when I saw and felt the smolder in the eyes of that young soldier,
Congradulations.
Church Bulletin Bloopers
- The Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles and other items to be recycled. Proceeds will be used to cripple children.
- Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.
- The eighth-graders will be presenting Shakespeare's Hamlet in the Church basement Friday at 7 PM. The Congregation is invited to attend this tragedy.
- Thursday night Potluck Supper. Prayer and medication to follow.
- A bean supper will be held on Tuesday evening in the church hall. Music will follow.
- At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What Is Hell?" Come early and listen to our choir practice.
Spelling problem, you know.
Thank You!
For SARGE, and all who have stood between evil and America.
Same Job, Still Getting It Done!
In ancient days, he swung a heavy sword,
and marched to orders from those somewhere in the rear.
He sat around waiting, just plain and total bored,
or neck deep in trouble, through fire, fight, and battle’s sear.
Today he carries a rifle with sights to reach out far to play,
and yet its still face to face, his trade to ply where enemies he’ll find.
He brings more power to the battle now then Greeks brought Troy’s way,
and yet he carefully does the job, and leave little waste behind.
He is the new soldier, doing the same old job as before,
like building up a nation, as he takes down a tyrant’s pride.
Quietly professional, with a touch of pride, so hard earned and more,
a hero, in every way that counts, he’s in it for the whole long ride.
Not to Canada does he run, or off to some collegian frat slum,
no, he stands and delivers the final hard and telling blow.
Its him and all the rest, we own our freedoms too, old chum,
not some politician, or liberal whining star with honor oh so low!
Give respect for what they do, and all that they have done,
and remember them that fall as well, for their part of the best.
Stand tall and salute them, and do so with true pride, old son,
for these are the real Americans, who stood for her, the truest test.
There’s some kid from Kansas, a gal from Texas there,
and that kid from Oklahoma, behind his machine gun.
A guy from New York, the towers one day to repair,
but for now its pest control in the sand, old son.
They come from all over, and heroes each and all,
doing the tough job, every day until its truly done.
They’re more then most will be, they answered the call,
America needed them and they stood, and not a one will run.
Say a prayer and let not the whiners demean them now,
these are heroes real and ours, when we need heroes this day.
It is our job to hold this country for them, never to leftists bow,
America is theirs, bought with the coin of courage do they pay.
Those who give the very last, give everything for all,
set them on a hero’s stand, for they paid everything for you.
Let us bow our heads and thank them, who give and fall,
and thank their comrades coming home, their heroes too!
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