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Posted on 06/25/2005 9:22:33 PM PDT by Soaring Feather
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Yes, that would be something fabulous won't it.
A flier and a racer, poet, sailor, steam boat, engineer and what else on your resume'??
Well, I am beat for the night so will say good night to you. Stay as long as you wish. The Lair is always open for late night writers.
Quiz
Who said? "Life is a jest; and all things show it.
"I thought so once; but now I know it."
Hint: A poet who knows it.
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I sure hope the launch and reentry go right.
Very nice, Miss Feather .. good morning to you!
Prayers up Darks.
Good day to you Colonel. Hope you are having a pleasant day.:-)
Prayers up as well from this end.
Queenie - this gives me chills - I was just about to post the following song in the Canteen when I got your poem. Dang!
Standing there alone
the ship is waiting
all systems are go
are you sure?
control is not convinced
but the computer
has the evidence
"no need to abort"
the countdown starts
watching in a trance
the crew is certain
nothing left to chance
all is working
trying to relax
up in the capsule
"send me up a drink"
jokes Major Tom
the count goes on
4 3 2 1
Earth below us
drifting falling
floating weightless
calling calling home...
second stage is cut
we're now in orbit
stabilizers up
running perfect
starting to collect
requested data
what will it effect
when all is done
thinks Major Tom
back at ground control
there is a problem
go to rockets full
not responding
"hello Major Tom
are you receiving
turn the thrusters on
we're standing by"
there's no reply
4 3 2 1
Earth below us
drifting falling
floating weightless
calling calling home...
across the stratosphere
a final message
"give my wife my love"
then nothing more
far beneath the ship
the world is mourning
they don't realize
he's alive
no one understands
but Major Tom sees
now the life commands
this is my home
I'm coming home
Earth below us
drifting falling
floating weightless
coming home...
Earth below us
drifting falling
floating weightless
coming home...
Earth below us
drifting falling
floating weightless
coming coming home...
home.....
I am spell bound over this lift off and the days she will be in space. 'Tis a brave frontier. We have the best space explorers and engineers.
We can never forget Columbia.
Thanks for the song and lyrics.
Off to a good start today! Most pleasing!
for a lighter note,
The ad says...
Stock up and save. Limit: one.
Save regularly in our bank. You'll never reget it.
We build bodies that last a lifetime. Offer expires
December 31or while supplies last.
This is the model home for your future.
It was panned by Better Homes and Gardens.
For Sale--Diamonds - $20; microscopes $15.
For Rent: 6-room hated apartment.
Man, honest. Will take anything.
Wanted: chambermaid in rectory. Love in, $200 a month. References required.
Wanted: Part-time married girls for soda fountain
in sandwich shop.
Man wanted to work in dynamite factory. Must be willing to travel.
Used Cars: Why go elsewhere to be cheated? Come here first!
Christmas tag-sale. Handmade gifts for the hard-to-find person.
Wanted: Hair-cutter. Excellent growth potential.
Wanted. Man to take care of cow that does not smoke or drink.
3-year-old teacher needed for pre-school. Experience preferred.
Our experienced Mom will care for your child. Fenced yard, meals, and smacks included.
Our bikinis are exciting. They are simply the tops.
Auto Repair Service. Free pick-up and delivery. Try us once, you'll never go anywhere again.
See ladies blouses. 50% off!
Wanted: Preparer of food. Must be dependable, like the food business,and be willing to get hands dirty.
Illiterate? Write today for free help.
Girl wanted to assist magician in cutting-off-head illusion. Blue Cross and salary.
LOL
Oh man, talk about not clearly stating one's wishes.
Thank You Kathy. Love Blessed Assurance.
Quote of the day.
Those who voluntarily put power into the hands of a
tyrant or an enemy, must not wonder if it be at last
turned against themselves.
--Aesop (620-560 BC)
To an Aeolian Harp
Sara Teasdale
The winds have grown articulate in thee,
And voiced again the wail of ancient woe
That smote upon the winds of long ago:
The cries of Trojan women as they flee,
The quivering moan of pale Andromache,
Now lifted loud with pain and now brought low.
It is the soul of sorrow that we know,
As in a shell the soul of all the sea.
So sometimes in the compass of a song,
Unknown to him who sings, thro' lips that live,
The voiceless dead of long-forgotten lands
Proclaim to us their heaviness and wrong
In sweeping sadness of the winds that give
Thy strings no rest from weariless wild hands.
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