|
Posted on 07/26/2004 4:37:41 AM PDT by JustAmy
|
A modern classic. Thanks for posting it.
I gave Tuliptree76 instructions on gettin Veteran Status.
With all the jackasses on TV last night, seemed the timing was right!!
:)
very cute.
As my DNC CONvention poem stated, I ain't watching. I know dung beetles when I see them, I don't have to watch them.
I'm playing golf today, hope to be back here later.
Have a great day!!! : )
Bro
I guess I'm qualified. Can I get a Veteran Freeper Status Card?
Oh, yeah, a credit card number ... (rummage, rummage ...) How about my Waldenbooks Preferred Reader Account Number? ... Hmm, looks like I need to renew that again.
Since 2500 of those were poems you are overqualified. No credit card required for POETS. We are the social elite even though we have no money.
I pronounce NicknamedBob, Veteran Freeper of the First Order.
All you need now is for Just Amy to confirm, then you're in.
Existing Home Sales 1326K vs 1261K consensus
Consumer Confidence 106.1 vs 102.0 consensus
Stock market takes off through initial resistance levels
Where did NnB go?
I stayed around the home area. In-laws came in from S.CA., we went out to eat several times and visited 2 historical sites.
Darks,
Do we want a newbie to know what a beeber is?
Sir Guy de la Conspiracie, K-nigget
Read: Luke 12:16-21
Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, . . . but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven. —Matthew 6:19-20
Bible In One Year: Psalms 43-45; Acts 27:27-44
There’s an old legend about three men who were crossing a desert on horseback at night. As they approached a dry creek bed, they heard a voice commanding them to dismount, pick up some pebbles, put them in their pockets, and not look at them till the next morning. The men were promised that if they obeyed they would be both glad and sad. After they did as they were told, the three mounted their horses and went on their way.
As the first streaks of dawn began to spread across the sky, the men reached into their pockets to pull out the pebbles. To their great surprise, they had been transformed into diamonds, rubies, and other precious gems. It was then that they realized the significance of the promise that they would be both glad and sad. They were happy that they had picked up as many pebbles as they did, but sorry—so sorry—that they had not collected more.
I wonder if we will have a similar feeling when we get to heaven. We will be happy for the treasure we laid up in heaven while on earth, and joyful for the rewards Christ will give us. But we will also experience regret for not having done more to serve Him.
Let’s make the most of our opportunities so that we’ll be more glad than sad. —Richard De Haan
I pride myself on having days
When thoughts of her don't cross my way
Thinking I can fix her to my past
And indulge in the conceit I'm free at last.
But then a hint of her perfume floats by
A memory of her deep eyes
A poem, a thought, a few words
And my conceit seems absurd
For once again boils up a swirl of emotion
A tidal wave of love and devotion
And the knowledge that no matter how I may try:
I will fear the love of my life has passed me by.
To be sure, I have tried
To seek love in another's eyes
In the evening, seen silken lips gently part
Like the opening of the portals of the heart
I have seen a flash in eyes of brown and blue
Seen the gleam of something new
Seen the bright flame of passion glow
And felt its vital current flow
But moved as I may be by the sight:
A voice intrudes: "No, no, this is not right."
For though she's the cause of my heart breaking
It's still hers for the taking
And with my pride stretched like the skin on a drum
I wonder what to do, and what is yet to come.
Will I have to compromise
And settle for looking in another's eyes
And live with a thought most malign:
"I may be the love of her life, but she's not mine."
Still, will I suppress it and live a lie
And for a time, the thought may die
But try as I may and as I might:
The voice will say: "No, no, this is not right."
Will I be honest and live alone
Tread down life's pathways on my own
Feel the bracing virtues of solitude
But then again, will memories intrude
Will they come to haunt me in the night
The voice still saying: "No, this is not right."
I may have only been meant
To be her buffer against events
I can ask for what I want, but not get
I should give up, and yet, and yet
The boiling swirl of my emotions
Means she has my love and devotion
And no matter how hard I may try
The voice will say: "This will never die."
Regards, Ivan
OK you're clear.
OK you're clear.
What a neat 'n sweet poem you wrote for this picture, Bob. :) I just love that baby's fascination with the water!
Clear foorrr....?
I sat with my cat too. He crawled up next to me on the couch so we cuddled for a while on a few mornings.
I actually DID smile when I scrolled down and saw that mug!
Stick with that story. Just because you and NnB were missing at the same time in no way implies any hanky panky.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.
