Please allow me to present you with an "Opening Day" bouquet.
Like the 'Finest' Babes.....you're a hostess with the mostest! : )
wolfie((((((( Amy )))))))wolfie
Thanksgiving on the Yalu,
Our Thoughts of naught but Home,
Sit we here in this Bleak Land,
Together All but yet Alone.
Five Months out from Pusan,
And Two from Inchon,
Then quickly 'cross the Parallel,
T'was a Muddy Marathon.
Soon our Travails will be Over,
For we'll be Stateside Bound,
Not a Nostalgic Glance Back,
As we Quit this Bloody Ground.
Thanksgiving on the Yalu,
Turkey and Trimmings Served up Well,
Stomachs Stuffed and Satisfied,
...Hear that strange, distant Yell?
Thanksgiving on the Yalu,
Our Thoughts of naught but Home,
Sit we here in this Bleak Land,
Together All but yet Alone.
Five Months out from Pusan,
And Two from Inchon,
Then quickly 'cross the Parallel,
T'was a Muddy Marathon.
Soon our Travails will be Over,
For we'll be Stateside Bound,
Not a Nostalgic Glance Back,
As we Quit this Bloody Ground.
Thanksgiving on the Yalu,
Turkey and Trimmings Served up Well,
Stomachs Stuffed and Satisfied,
...Hear that strange, distant Yell?
(Matthew 24:23-44)
-------------
Upon the mantle of the plains
A hundred miles beyond or more,
Where torrents fall and lightening flames
The clouds ascend and thunders roll.
.......
Yet but few the hours past
We also knew this tumult's might,
The frigid blast and rattling hail
The tempest's summons in the night.
.......
Now silent and how bright the scene
That is upon my sight impressed,
The fire and cloud that day preview
That comes from east and to the west
.......
And of that time---we know not when
The Trumpet's message will be tolled,
For all will see the lightening then
When He the balances will hold!
There was a time
Two hundred years ago,
When Englishmen
Filled with fear,
Decided to crush the Scottish pride.
They banned wearing the
Kilt under penalty of death,
They determined to destroy
The Scotsman's heritage,
To wipe out its remembrance
From the Earth.
After thirty years they appeared
To have won.
And yet, the chapter is not
Closed, the story is not through,
For many ill-loved Scots
Fled to America and helped
Make her great,
With courage and intellect,
They led America forward.
With Scottish blood
Flowing in the
Heart of America's
Progress and growth.
So, I wear the tartan with pride,
And remember oppressed
Ancestors from long ago,
Forced to wear English pants.
I wear the Kilt
With its plaids shown clear,
Because it reminds me
Of my heritage
Of the men who came,
Built a new land
Leaving us a Republic
So that we could always
Keep freedom alive
Thanks for the heads up Misty, I'm not a poet so guess I'll be the one who supplies the potpourri (undried). :)
Every one seems to start their first posts with a poem, so here is one of my favorites:
In darkness let me dwell, The ground shall sorrow be,
The roof, despair, to bar,
All cheerful light from me.
The walls of marble black,
That moistened still shall weep,
My music, hellish, jarring sounds,
To banish friendly sleep.
Thus wedded to my woes,
And bedded to my tomb,
Oh! Let me living die,
Till Death; till Death do come.
-Dowland
we have lost ourselves we have come, through mental habits of sloth, to worship Science for we must worship we do not see for we choose not to see we are taught that we are murderers, at heart, that only the fittest survive that we are Mother Nature's Exception (it is not true) we are freighted with guilt and sin by cultural forces external to our own true Selves we are subjugated by our habits of fear and doubt and a storm is coming we have ceded by default our responsibility for ourselves To Science Medicine and the Traditional Church they do not sustain they do not abide they do not reacquaint us with our Fundamental Grace a storm is coming we are told that we are powerless and we embrace Powerlessness (money is not power) we are taught that we are not good but we have forgotten ourselves and a storm is coming we have much to learn and remember and the path seemingly grows narrow and dim but we will fall into knowing ultimately for Intimate Order and Balance Always Obtain Always Prevail Always Teach we will fall into Grace seemingly fall as we have willed our way out of it and we will bring Jewels of Perspective a storm is coming We will Awaken unto Ourselves each Moment Overfills with Meaning a wave is a particle Truth is Beauty is Simplicity is Music is Meaning is Magic the Power is Ours. It is in and to and of Each of Us whatever his station the depth of our Reality has been caressed only lately our perceptions are our power and we create we assemble Reality but we make it Too Real Too Dazzling beneath it flows Grander Reality and Alternate Reality and Ultimate Reality The Undifferentiated, The One we will learn and we will know for a storm is coming