Clouds drift with the rise of the sun, spreading the paint of a newborn day.
Hail the new day! Cover me in the brilliance of sunshine As soon as today, if you may, If you might Could it possibly happen Before tonight
Oh mercy! For those days that the sweetness of life is interrupted by some painful thorn, don’t throw it away because of the sting; center on the beauty, not just the hurt. Savor the fragrance of life.
Whispered words, cannot be heard But, only by the heart As it should be so My love, my love
I let you cover me with a blanket of your memory, just the way it is written on your heart. Oh, the beauty of a new day. Fresh and new and we'll start all over again.
Happy #Caturday! It goes without saying that Saturday will never be replaced by beer or naught... for it has been the day of the cat, since the beginning of time. Amen.
And just because this is so eclectic (It's true!!) we are going to check out the Washington Monument today. There is so much hot air being blown around here in the Capitol lately, you can fly the flag. "Planted firmly on the high pinnacle of American faith, the gently fluttering folds are an inspiration of things that can be."If only. Le sigh.
Flowers. There must always be flowers. This picture is dedicated to #SepiaSaturday by @Old-Guy-Photos.Let's toss out some sepia today!
And just like that, these musings are done. And just so you know, although much sun and shine was used up today, I can guarantee that there is still a little left in my heart. Have a most fabulous day!
Thank you for visiting my post 💖 Because of you, I come back to post, again and again. In the game of life, my friends, pondlife is at least a little further up the evolutionary chain than the insult - pond scum. Keep it classy, people. Kindness counts. Wherever you go, whatever you do.
I always post this poem down at the bottom of my posts. It is one that has become so near and dear to my heart. I only post the most famous part of it, but, wanted to post it in its entirety today.
they set my aunts house on fire i cried the way women on tv do folding at the middle like a five pound note. i called the boy who use to love me tried to ‘okay’ my voice i said hello he said warsan, what’s wrong, what’s happened?
i’ve been praying, and these are what my prayers look like; dear god i come from two countries one is thirsty the other is on fire both need water.
later that night i held an atlas in my lap ran my fingers across the whole world and whispered, "where does it hurt?" it answered,
"everywhere" "everywhere" "everywhere"
warsan shire
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