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September 28, 2005
The Fading Summer
The Autumn chill is coming,
Flowing thru the trees.
Behind the touch of summer goes
With the flight of birds and bees.
The hummingbirds fly swiftly south
Across the Gulf so far.
By day they travel with the sun,
By night, the shining star.
The crops are in, the storage made
In fruit jars on the shelf.
The final garden remnants,
Look as jaded as one's self.
Preserves and jellies put aside,
And pickled melon rinds,
Tomato juice for drinks or stews,
And perhaps a touch of wine.
The fields still hold bright yellows though,
For the wandering eye to view.
As pumpkins labor to finish their growth
And serve as they must do
As jack-o'-lanterns for the child,
That lives within us all,
And pumpkin pies for dinner
When the family comes to call.
Thanksgiving comes upon us
With snow not far behind,
But lasting thoughts of summer
Still linger in the mind.
~ İDantesdevl ~
Posted by tracey at 09:20 PM | Comments (1)
September 25, 2005
Autumn's Harvest
A LYRIC OF AUTUMN
THERE is music in the meadows, in the air --
Autumn is here;
Skies are gray, but hearts are mellow,
Leaves are crimson, brown, and yellow;
Pines are soughing, birches stir,
And the Gipsy trail is fresh beneath the fir.
There is rhythm in the woods, and in the fields,
Nature yields:
And the harvest voices crying,
Blend with Autumn zephyrs sighing;
Tone and color, frost and fire,
Wings the nocturne Nature plays upon her lyre.
~ William Stanley Braithwaite ~
Posted by tracey at 01:18 PM | Comments (1)
September 23, 2005
Pictures of Hannah
Some pictures I came across of Hannah, when she was little with her blonde hair and curls!
(Watching for sissy to get off the bus, I love this pic!)
(Christmas morning, 2003)
Posted by tracey at 02:01 PM | Comments (0)
September 12, 2005
Appleblossoms from spring
The breezes taste
Of apple peel.
The air is full
Of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
Burning brush,
New books, erasers,
Chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive,
Well-honeyed hum,
And Mother cuts
Chrysanthemums.
Like plates washed clean
With suds, the days
Are polished with
A morning haze.
- September, John Updike
Posted by tracey at 12:22 PM | Comments (0)
September 07, 2005
The Last Rose of Summer
'Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone.
- Thomas Moore, The Last Rose of Summer, 1830
(Manipulated in PSP 7)
Posted by tracey at 04:33 PM | Comments (0)
September 05, 2005
Mom and Dad Celebrate 35 years!
Mom and Dad celebrated 35 years of marriage on September 2. We enjoyed a turkey dinner together with all the fixins' on Sunday and had a good time. I put together a slide show of pictures over the past 35 years and they really liked that too. :-)
I just need to figure out how to get them onto a DVD with the music! What a time!
Just a little walk down Memory Lane...
(Dad & Josh around 1985)
(Mom, Heather and I around 1977 ~ Frankie's Baptism)
(My sister and I on a horse called Chubs)
Posted by tracey at 04:28 PM | Comments (0)
September 04, 2005
Autumn is in the air!
A look back at some autumn pasts...
"The caressing breeze of summer
Has turned into the blustering winds of fall."
"Leaves, once proudly perched on the limbs of trees,
Now dance gaily through the air,
Brightly colored in the warm tones of autumn."
poetry from ~
Linda Christensen
Posted by tracey at 04:39 PM | Comments (0)