~The Dragon Flies' Lair IV~

November 7, 2003 | bentfeather

[Soaring Feather]

My Dragon Fly and Me

If I could be a Dragon Fly
and wing my way through the sky
I would never be shy
just me and my Dragon Fly!

By moonlight we ride the wind
chase the comets tail for fun
by day we would hide from the sun
our fragile wings would come undone

On darkest nights we would use
fireflies as our guide
we would dip and we would glide
through the heavens open wide
and scatter diamonds in the night sky
my Dragon Fly and I...

And we would wing past our lovers
silent in the night...
to kiss their face in our flight
much to their surprise and delight
my Dragon Fly and me in sight...

Such a view do we share
away up here in the air
of breezes soft through our hair
my Dragon Fly and me a pair...

bentfeather©

[Soaring Feather]

Oh Flurry this is a hoot!

ROTFLOL!!!!

[Conspiracy Guy]

I call it "Day of the Jacko".

[Soaring Feather]

Great Title Flurry!

[Soaring Feather]

Just a thought Quote:


Dutch philosopher Benedictus de Spinoza said, "Peace is not an absence of war. It is a virtue, a state of mind,
a disposition for benevolence, confidence, justice."

[Conspiracy Guy]

thanks

[Soaring Feather]

Edgar Allan Poe
(1809-1849)

A Dream
by Edgar Allan Poe

In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed-
But a waking dream of life and light
Hath left me broken-hearted.

Ah! what is not a dream by day
To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
Turned back upon the past?

That holy dream- that holy dream,
While all the world were chiding,
Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
A lonely spirit guiding.

What though that light, thro' storm and night,
So trembled from afar-
What could there be more purely bright
In Truth's day-star?

[Darksheare]

Slide tackled by a footstool, hmmm..
Gonna have ot see what I can come up with for this.

[Soaring Feather]

Morning Darksheare!!

A footstool punter!??

[SAMWolf]

LOL!!

[SAMWolf]

Good Morning Everybody.

You Know The Drill
Click the Pics

Coffee & Donuts

[SAMWolf]

The Potato Harvest



A high bare field, brown from the plough, and borne
Aslant from sunset; amber wastes of sky
Washing the ridge; a clamour of crows that fly
In from the wide flats where the spent tides mourn
To yon their rocking roosts in pines wind-torn;
A line of gray snake-fence, that zigzags by
A pond, and cattle; from the homestead nigh
The long deep summonings of the supper horn.

Black on the ridge, against that lonely flush,
A cart, and stoop-necked oxen; ranged beside,
Some barrels; and the day-worn harvest folk,
Here emptying their baskets, jar the hush
With hollow thunders; down the dusk hillside
Lumbers the wain; and day fades out like smoke.

Charles G. D. Roberts

[Soaring Feather]

Good morning Sam!!!

The Potato Harvest



What a fun graphic!!!
Cute poem too. :-)

[SAMWolf]

I grew up with Mr Potato Head. It seemed to fit. :-)

[Soaring Feather]

Oh my gosh have you all seen the Spell Checker we have!!!!!!!!!!

[Conspiracy Guy]

Watt spill chicker?

[Conspiracy Guy]

Dang. I seen it jest now. It is gonna slo us pomist down.

[Colonel_Flagg]

I have indeed. Luckily, I already know how to spell :)

Having said that, the pressure is on ...

[Soaring Feather]

ROTFLOL

[Darksheare]

It wasn't the Brew of Doom, was it?

Hmm... "Black Death Coffee, for when you REALLY need the kick!"
(uh oh, kinda slap happy at the moment...)

[Darksheare]

Yup. Taken down by furniture again.
*chuckle*