Friday, February 8, 2019

Poetry Friday

Simply in a hurry.  Very busy yesterday.  Want to see Ginger today...
But a poem for her.


A simply silly Labrador
With eyes all sparklehappy
Retrieves without a second thought
And plops upon my lap she
Isn't small enough for that
But how can I deny her
She loves without a second thought
I wish her nose were drier.

by Donna JT Smith, Feb 8, 2019

Ha!  There you go - a poem out of it at last. Gotta run.  I'll let you know what "treat" she found to almost kill herself on.

Well, it was a small pop gun ball.  She evidently ate TWO of them.  One she threw up along with a cotton rope knot and bread tie... then they found the other during surgery yesterday.  She is healing, along with our bank account.
Here it is...almost usable still...unlike my credit card.  This is a Hog Wild Popper ball. Great fun, until they aren't!

Find a Poem, read it up, all the day you'll happy up....(wait - that's a double up rhyme)
with Laura today at Writing the World for Kids February 8, 2019!!

Wednesday, February 6, 2019

Home is Where the Heart Is

I am going to set this page up today, but don't know where it will lead me.  I have been up all night...a few nod-offs watching tv and babysitting Ginger, our yellow lab, who has taken ill.  Lots of vomiting yesterday.  And this morning we had more when she got rid of the water I'd given her.  She is not eating now.  I have made her some rice broth, but she only took about two tablespoons before saying she'd had enough.
So I'm tired and worried and heartsick.  My FB post explains more.  I don't feel like going into it all again.

That said, I'm going to try to pull myself together and get the First Spiritual Journey Thursday link up ready at the very least.  Then I hope to take a nap while my husband figures out if he is heading to the vet with Ginger, or we are riding it out a bit longer.

This was to be a "heartwarming" post today.  And I am going to try to remember what I had in mind and get my focus back there.

Essentially, I was thinking of how no matter where you are, being with family and with those people that you hold dear in your heart constitutes being "home".
I have had many homes in my lifetime, both as a child and when married.  We are yet again embarking on making a new place a home.  We have a good start.  We are with our daughter and two grandchildren.  But then we left our old home where our son lived.  So part of my heart still lies there.  My brothers and sisters are spread out over the United States now, as well as their children.  My heart has had to stretch to encompass lots of places.  I've come to realize that home is not where the heart is in this sense.  It can't be.  I have too many places to call home.  My heart is getting stretched too thin.  I get sad thinking just thinking about it.

I've discovered that it has to mean, and that I have to focus on the "other" meaning of home and heart.

Matthew 6: 20-21
20 But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:
21 For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

I am laying up treasures in heaven.  And that is where my home is.  And if that is where my home is...that is also where my heart must be.  It's a home I have not yet moved into perhaps, but it is there and real nonetheless.

For now, my verse that I must keep in mind as I am growing a new, on Earth home and repotting my heart in its new location is:

Philippians 4:11
11 Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.

This is just another stepping stone.  And it is ALL good.

Home is Where the Heart Is

Treasures in heaven
Are waiting for me
Treasures in store
That I cannot see
But someday my home
Will be in the clouds
I don't know just how
But I'll join the crowds
Of family and friends
Who've gone on before
And that is the home
That my heart will adore.
Until then I'll wait
With feet firmly set
For it isn't my time
To be with them yet.

by Donna JT Smith, Feb. 6, 2019 (I had a bit of a poem in my after all.)

Been up well over 24 hours now.  I have to go check on Ginger, and see if she will take a bit more rice broth.  And I should probably wake up my husband, who went to bed at 5 am, and take my turn at getting some rest.  I'll post somewhere later to update Ginger's state* **.

* Update - Ginger went to the vet.  Had an ultrasound, and they didn't find any obstructions.  She is home again, with NO surgery - yay!  But she doesn't seem any different.  Won't eat her rice.  Just wants water.  I am only giving her a little at a time.  So far it seems that she just stores it to get rid of in HUGE amounts all at once.  I've been fairly successful at limiting the vomiting to the kitchen vinyl floor, but not always able to keep it from going under the refrigerator...  We will cook her some chicken tonight and see what she does with that.  Good news is ultrasound was $300.  Surgery would have been $3000+.  We could still end up there, but I don't think so.

** Second Update - Ginger went to the vet again this morning (Thurs.) as she was still doing very poorly, and got a free second ultrasound.  It was definitive this time.  There is an obstruction that requires surgery for removal. She is having today.
Sign up here with your link today:

Sunday, February 3, 2019

A Slug's Bio

Rebecca Herzog made up this poem game to get the juices flowing, and I always love a challenge... even when I'm cloggy nosed and coughy.  So I tried it again today.  I left one in the comments yesterday from my 5, 2, 1 combo... Dribble, Dying, Botanist....

Here's the game:
Write the numbers 1-6 on strips of paper and draw them out of a bowl or use dice to generate three numbers.  Use the prompts below to compose a poem:

1. Cherita
2. Haiku
3. Bio Poem
4. Acrostic
5. Dribble
6. Limerick

1. Winning
2. Dying
3. Travel
4. Season
5. Alone
6. Haunted

1. A botanist
2. A door
3. A cafeteria
4. a toy
5. A slug
6. A geologist

I picked three numbers.  I got a 3, 2, 5 combination (there are three of each number so you could get a 1, 1, 1).   The result was I had to write a "Bio Poem",  with the topic of "Dying" and the Character being "a slug".  Here's a Bio Poem format, in case you are unfamiliar with it:

  1. Your first name only
  2. Four traits that describe you
  3. Sibling/son/daughter of
  4. Lover of ... (list three people, ideas, events)
  5. Who feels ... (list three items)
  6. Who needs ... (list three items)
  7. Who gives ... (list three items)
  8. Who fears ... (list three items)
  9. Who would like to see ... (list three items)
10. Resident of ... (City, street or physical location)
11. Your last name only

The Bio Poem about a slug and dying, too.....

I’m slow, slimy, shell free, and slippery
I am a son-daughter born of my mother-fathers and have snails in my tree
Moisture, the dark, fungi and plants please my tentacles and fringed foot
If I thought about it much I might feel preyed upon, vulnerable - yet I'm slick
My needs are simple and common: water, food and a quiet hiding place
I provide a cleaner Earth, a path of mucus for others to follow, and sustenance for hungry creatures
Perhaps I should fear everything, but really I fear nothing but dryness
I’ve heard of inhospitable places, but someday I'd like to see them: the desert, the ocean and stars
I live in a close up world of lichen, strawberries and daisy petals, and will die for want of a drop of water

by Donna JT Smith, Feb. 3, 2019

I'm still sneezing... lack of mucus doesn't seem to be my problem anyway...

Friday, February 1, 2019

Better Late Than Never

* Oh, dear.  I apologize in advance.  This post is too long.  Pick ONE part of it.  Don't let it overwhelm you, as overwhelms me now looking at it....for someone who has nothing to write, it is certainly full of words!  I am sick today, but am slowly making my way through all the poem offerings.  I'm hoping doses of poetry will get me feeling better! *

Life has just been taking priority over writing...and when the writing DOES occur, Facebook posting has taken precedence over blog posting.  So here's a recap and I apologize to those who have already read these on Facebook. 
I am sharing my two poems that I sent to Erin Mauger for Tabatha Yeatts' Winter Exchange.
I am posting the poem I wrote for Jone Rush MacCulloch's New Year Postcard Exchange (see FB for why you didn't get a postcard from me...but might someday. Surprise!).
And this first poem is one written in response to a painting I found recently at a thrift store.  I reminds me of "home" in winter.

Oil painting I purchased at a thrift store last week
Winter Harbor

Blotchy the clouds
Frozen the sky
Ice bedecked traps
Yet gulls still fly
No thought for winter
All wind's the same
It's only the snow
That changes the game
Where beaches are empty
No harboring seal
But look to the ocean
Where lobster boats reel
Slicing through waves
Reflecting the gale
Riding out winter
The breaker of frail.

by Donna JT Smith, Jan. 26, 2019
Postcard Exchange Bookmark for Erin Mauger

If ever you
  wander dreamily;
If ever you
  wonder mightily;
If ever you
  dream fantastically;
If ever you
  wish majestically;
If ever you
  dream or wish
     take me,
Together you
   and I
   will write
   what we
      can see.

by Donna JT Smith
New Year Postcard Exchange poem - not sent

light of night
shine on us
in purest white
light the dark
in shades of gray
till the glow
of dawning day
seemly bright
carry me
above my plight
reflective of
the light above
gliding wings
of Noah's dove
simple wimple
of a cloud
wrapping you
in whitish shroud
from behind you
shyly peer
of morning clear

by Donna JT Smith, Jan. 2019
Winter Exchange Poem for Erin Mauger

Travel far and travel wide,
Journey to a place inside.
Pull the door and settle in,
Write a tale of ocean's spin.
Feel the waters sharp and cold
Turn into wide fields of gold,
Where the seaweed covered ledges
Dissipate and morph to hedges.
Starfish undulate their feet,
Float to heaven's stars to meet
Moon snails dancing on Bear's turf,
As snowy drifts engulf the surf.
You're unconfined in worlds sublime
And hold the key to transcend time;
Just write it all with open mind;
Naught restricts the paths you'll find.
Write it all with open heart;
Begin the end and start the start.
Instead of rocks and sand and snail,
Your story's grown another tale.

by Donna JT Smith, 12/1/2018

Happy Groundhog Day on Saturday.  Have a beautiful Sunday, too.
Looking forward to feeling much better by the time you read this!
For more poetry, please check out the links at The Opposite of Indifferece where Tabatha is hosting Poetry Friday today.

*This was not "publishing" so I had to close Blogger and reopen.  Of course upon reopening, there was nothing here. Good thing I had done a "select" and "copy"  beforehand, just in case, and that "paste" worked or there would be no post, because I'm worn out.

Thursday, December 27, 2018

The End or the Beginning?

Hope your week has been special!  Ours has been.  And Happy New Year!
Welcome to Poetry Friday!
I am hosting today's lineup of poets and poetry lovers.  Please, if you have some poetry to share, leave your link on Mister Linky below.  Please, if you just love poetry and don't have a poem to share, but just want to read poems, poems and more poems, click on a link and go to there... and hopefully leave a nice comment for someone to savor.

Well, the end of the year is here, an we are at a new beginning, in a new home, in a state in which we've never lived before.  I am totally turned around when I go out and about.  How long will it take to know where I am???

I'd always said that it was easy to know where you were in Maine.  Go east - you are in the ocean.  Head north and northeast and you are in Canada.  Head west or south and you are in New Hampshire.  There aren't a lot of roads, so if you are on one, just stay on it and you will get somewhere.  Get off the road and you will be lost.  Stay calm and on the road, and you will get where you are going.  No one cares how long it takes to get there - it is going to take a while to get there no matter what you do.

When we first moved to Minnesota, my husband would drive us most places.  It was before GPS and cellphones.  He loved driving around.  So every night we would go on a drive, and he would bring me home by a different route.  I had no idea where we lived for quite some time. Lol!

I am feeling a bit like that again, though with the mapping on the phone, I at least know how to get there and back!  I still can't do it without the mapping.  If I lose signal, I won't have a clue how to get home and I'm not sure if the "stay on the road and you will get somewhere" will work in Pennsylvania.  I could end up in New York or DC.

But enough.
A new year is just around the corner, and...
I thought I'd share with your a few of the angels outside our new home.

Angel in a tree

Angel flower holder

Sleeping angel

Reading Angel
I think this last one is my favorite of all the angels in and out of the house that I've discovered.  It has been fun to find angels, fairies and little creatures hidden in tucked away places here.

Reading Angel

He sits above the leaves of brown
and reads what's carved in stone.
He savors words and reads to birds
and never feels alone.
His wings have brought him to this place,
this traveler of miles,
And all the passersby can't help
but turn their heads and smile.
The garden angel balances
atop a silver sphere
A book could take him anywhere -
I'm glad that he stopped here.

by Donna JT Smith, 12/27/18

Here's the link up:

Friday, December 21, 2018

Matt's Poem Exchange

It is Poetry Friday.  I missed last week...just totally got by me!  I have been cleaning and shopping, putting up a tree and unpacking, changing addresses and mailing the former owner's unforwarded mail to her.
I finally got my Swap mailed out.  It is going to Australia, to Erin Mauger, so it will be late-late getting to her!  I've had it ready and carried it about with me until I finally had the time to mail it.

I got Matt Esenwine's swap in the mail here!  And I can tell you that Granite State chocolate is amazingly delicious.  I may just have to go looking for some more online!

Matt's poem creation was no easy task... he sent was a found poem gleaned from my Christmas season blog posts.  Thanks for this capture, Matt!  I love it!

"A Better Christmas"

It is snowing. Again.
In no hurry, we can wait
maybe a few days,
           an evening.
We can still celebrate,
inch along,
take delight in the little things
          pause, take notice,
                  appreciate them, remember
every day is cause for celebration,
a time for family, church,
                  listening to carols,
beautiful sounds.

a gift to others
I might not have given otherwise
save for one
prayer, one thought, one memory,
          one hope...
                  one regret.
There will be delight in the morning
scraps of Christmas
spirit, shimmer and sparkle.

Then it goes away until next year.

© 2018 Matt Forrest Esenwine, all rights reserved

Time to go visit Buffy at Buffy's Blog and see what lovely December offerings have been gathered there.
Poetry will be hosted here next week as we end 2018!

Friday, December 7, 2018

Opening a Door

It's been an incredibly long, and short year.  Doors have been opened, doors have been closed.  But every time a door has been closed, a new door has appeared just down the road apiece.  Sometimes it has been a struggle to reach that door, but we've managed to get there.
We are at a new door today.

New home in Pennsylvania
I am pre-scheduling this post today, as at 2 pm we will be at our closing - or should I say "new door opening"? - for our new home in PA.  For the next few years, we will be living here with our daughter and two grandchildren.  There should be some really fun times ahead.  We are, of course, bringing our motorcycles.  Though the roads in PA are much worse than those in Maine (I promise to be very careful!), the season for riding is much longer!
We still own our 2 homes in Maine, and plan to return in a few years.  It has been a struggle to buy a home, and I don't want to give up any ties to Maine.   Gull Haven, in Friendship, that we have been renovating for many years, will stay as our summer retreat, and our home on Georgetown island (pictured above) will be rented, hopefully, to a family who likes being in the woods with many hiking trails, peace and quiet, deer, turkeys, osprey, seagulls and owls, and being close to the ocean and working fishing docks. If you know anyone like that who wants to move to Maine, our home will be available soon! 

The next door we will go through every day.  Amazing how many doors we go through in our lives!

Opening the Door

Down the narrow hall,
a dark and narrow way,
you walk what seems entirely
a path too far away.
Where's the switch to draw the light?
Perhaps there is just none.
Adjust your eyes and don't look back -
This may not be such fun.
Shuffle on and watch your step,
Mind stumbling blocks that try!
Keep steady footsteps to the door,
No time to moan or cry.
Miles before you stretch each day
Before it comes in view;
behind you one door has been closed -
it's not the door for you.
Step over hurdles, look around,
and keep your focus keen;
for as you near that door you'll know
new treasures yet unseen. 
Look, the door is straight ahead,
and fingertips can reach.
Stop a moment and look back
what lessons did life teach?
Put hand to doorknob, give a twist,
and then a gentle pull;
Ah, my friend, behind that door
The meaning will be full.
Standing there quite breathless
without regret or doubt
Your door has led you to the place
This journey was about.

by Donna JT Smith, 12/5/18

And now...who can resist a picture from a four year old artist?
I'll just tuck one down here for good measure...we're having some great times together!

Karate "ballet-er" listening to music...and singing...and a picture on the wall!

This Girl Does It All

Sometimes ya just gotta dance,
Sometimes ya gotta sing,
Sometimes ya gotta karate party
   - and draw - 
They're ALL your thing! 

by Donna JT Smith, 12/5/18

Liz at Elizabeth Steinglass is hosting Poetry Friday today. Go check out what else is in store!

Thursday, December 6, 2018

Thursday with a Flourish

This is the last Spiritual First Thursday of 2018.  Please check out more of our One Little Word posts at Irene Latham's blog, Live Your Poem,
This year's OLW for me is "Flourish".  I'd found it on a Starbuck's ornament and bought it to remind myself to go through the year and each day adding a bit of a flourish to it...or perhaps just to flourish in the new year.

Well, it seemed to be a good word.  But then the year began to have some major upheavals.  Family started to fall apart.  One at a time.  Then the times overlapped.  On-going events just continued to build and piggy-back one upon the other - events life-threatening, near death, unsettling, unnerving, disappointing, ulcer-inducing, nervous breakdown fodder...
One in a year would have been enough to be wrenching.  Two in a year really wretched...5 or so (only because I'm counting fast and might be actually - yay!- forgetting one or two) just unacceptable for a human being to be coping with.

In spite of the turmoil, I've tried to add a touch of "flourish" to my days - to show that I'm still okay, and to show that I am trying despite all, to "flourish" in the muck and mire.  I've tried to think "Let's change that mire to manure and see what grows"... like that...
Let's shovel some muck and find that pony!

My husband would tell you that there honestly were days when I grumbled and crumbled, and I wasn't holding up my end of my faith bargain.  I was trying to hand my worries off to God, but then taking them back again in the middle of the night, like that was helpful...
I was weak from crying out.  I was tired from lack of sleep.  I was sick from lack of peace.

But regardless of my constant falling and failing at faith, I kept grabbing at it again, and asking for forgiveness for my lack of faith.  And I asked for more faith.

Yipes!  That's like asking for patience.  In order to build patience, you are going to have to have something to be patient about!  I just realized that I was asking God to give me trials, so I could build my faith.  Oh, He did that.  And with a Flourish!  When I started counting blessings and giving thanks and doing for others, my faith was so much easier to come by.  I still faltered.  I still had some meltdowns.  But they seemed shorter, and easier to come out of.

I am looking for a less stressful word for this coming year.
It is the end of the year.  We will be in a new house (to be told tomorrow) - finally.  And I think I am going to be looking for new opportunities to be the best person I can be.  I want to reach out and be kinder, be more aware, more loving, more...
Oh, shoot...yeah, it IS at least 5 events...I'm forgetting the cabinet maker for the house in Friendship...he owes us over 10K in cabinets he didn't produce and money he didn't return... yeah, it's more like 10 events that were over-stressing...Don't worry, I found some cabinets someone was getting rid of, so we will have a kitchen despite the theft.
Okay, where was I?
..more loving, more forgiving, less of a flourish necessary, no worries necessary... more thankful, and better at remembering to express it.

One more thought.  I've never counted my miseries before.  I've always counted my blessings.  But I guess it's like swimming in the ocean.  Most of the time one wave hits and dissipates before the next.  So I have time to regroup and take a breath, look at the good around me and then proceed with the next overpowering wave.  This year they just kept coming before my head could get above water.  I began to drown and could not see the life preservers I was probably always being thrown.  In retrospect, I can see the good in many of the events.  Some I'm still working at the details to figure the good part out... but I'm sure it's there.
I'm on it.  Can I do a poem?


you gave me more than I could chew
and waited - would I look at you?
   Nope, not yet!
   You served me more.
   No "Uncle" yet?
   There's more in store!

Ok, ok!  I know you're there!
I'll trust you now with every hair,
   and every breath
   I take today,
   that you will guide
   me in your way.

I will not in proud vanity
decide to do what's right for me;
   I'll give you all
   my guilty weight
   to be the Master
   of my fate.

I'll trust the strength of sheltering wings
to keep me safe from harmful things.
   You give me more
   than I can chew
   but now I know -
   "Lord, help me through."

by Donna JT Smith, 12/5/2018

Yes.  I guess I had one.  It wasn't Flourish though, but maybe we can consider it a "flourish" to the post, and a description of "how to flourish" with faith.   I think it works okay.

Just as a note, I felt compelled to write this today, but I want you to know I am not comfortable writing it.  I don't usually list the bad stuff that happens.  It seems so trivial and whiny to do that.  I much prefer to focus on what has gone on right.  And it works better for me.

I'm afraid that the string of "unfortunate events" overtook me after a while, and for a while.  Fester seemed to be the OLW instead of flourish!  And you can really get bogged down in a hurry when you live in the negative.  I tried not to let that happen, but sometimes it means internalizing everything and letting it build up.  Not a good plan.  I had to remind myself daily to take my worries to God...and then scream at myself NOT TO TAKE THEM BACK AGAIN!!

There are still a few things left on my plate.  But I have been successful in using my trust and faith again and getting back on an even keel, despite the lingering issues.  God's got them.

Prov 3:5-6
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

You know, a good Bible verse or two can really help you flourish...
and when one sticks with you, as you are reading, it is like glorious flourish sent straight from God to give you peace.

Friday, November 30, 2018

Artwork and Wordwork

Yes, please.
Mouse on the movie "The Gruffalo"... you have to see this one if you haven't...mother squirrel concocts a story for her two youngsters, somewhat based on what she's seen that day...the mouse in her story does the same.  Keep a sharp eye out as you watch and listen.  It's a storyteller in a storyteller's tale, all based on things they have seen that day.  The more you see it, the more you see.

This is my 4 year old granddaughter's picture of the mouse.  She sat and studied him for awhile, and I watched her as she looked back and forth from tv to paper and considered his shape, features and color.  She had a few attempts before this one, that I wasn't aware she'd done until peeking in her notebook.
You can see here, her continuous line for the body and the 3-D legs (both sides, not just sticks)

My poem to a Gruffalo and friend:

Imaginary Fiend?
the imaginary Gruffalo
came to eat me, don't you know...
he's very tall with knobby knees,
a poisonous wart and spines like trees;
though I'm a mouse, I'm pretty sly,
and with my tricks, I walk right by
that owl, fox and snake who try
to snack on me
'cause I rely
on Gruffalo who follows me
so I'm as carefree as can be.

 by Donna JT Smith, 11/29/18

My other poem, thought in part while watching granddaughter draw...and thinking about the arts...and what it means to be a human that creates and thinks:


When I draw, 
I watch as my heart
colors and shapes
the page.

When I write,
I listen to my heart
color and shape
each scene.

When I live,
I love with my heart;
color and shape
are unimportant.

by Donna JT Smith, 11/29/18

More, more, more...encore, you say?  Head on over to Carol W. at Carol's Corner where more poems are awaiting.

Friday, November 23, 2018

More Sharing

It's the day after Thanksgiving already?  It's hard to believe.  Time has gone by rather quickly sometimes and at others very, very slowly.  It's all a matter of where my focus lies at the moment, I guess.  I am grateful for many moments that keep me focused on the important things in life.  Like this.

I'm spending time with my grandchildren this month.  My 4 year old granddaughter is with me while her brother is at school, so we have some time of drawing, writing, music and dance.  One day this week we came up with this picture.  She draws most all of the time on her own, but this one day she wanted to combine our drawings into one scene.  So, we each drew rabbits and she drew mice...then she wanted me to draw a fence...

Behind the fence she added a little girl with yellow hair peeking over it.  Soon the little girl's mother showed up.  The mother is much taller, of course.  Granddaughter's green birds are flying past, a ball has been tossed in the air (it was going to be a bird, but it was too close to Mom's hair she said), and carrots (mine on the right, hers on the left) are enticing the bunnies.

I don't usually like to draw with a child, but sometimes, as long as you are not "showing them up" or instructing them in the proper form in the drawing, I think it is okay.  I try to bow out as much as possible and let them take ownership of the work even finishing off what I've started.

I think we worked this cooperative picture quite successfully: she changed my bluebird (that is almost invisible now on the right) to green when it blended with sky, and she made a new "greenbird" friend for it right next to her sun; she increased the population of mice by adding to my one mouse, and she added green baby bunnies to join the other family.  Our skies are blended and reworked blues.  Best of all, we had fun and conversation while working on it.  I'm happiest though, watching her quietly consider the blank paper and colored pencils, and how she announces what she is about to create.

Just wait until the next picture.  Her people have suddenly grown full legs and no support stick below.  How fascinating to see the stages of growth in her observations and art.

How many blessings can one day hold? 

The Dictated Story as told to me:
(just the beginning...perhaps there will be more later)

                                                There was a little girl with her mom.  
                                                And the little girl said, "Come here, come here!
                                                I want you to see the bunnies and mice!"


Coloring Days

Each sparkle day with
pencils and pen,
one after the other,
sprinkled again
with drawing
and singing,
all impromptu,
bitty ballerina dances
in sequined tutu.
Days pinwheel and swirl,
each blended yet whole
as hues are displayed
then ingrained in my soul. 

by Donna JT Smith, 11/20/18

And with that I urge you to go read more poetry today, be grateful, and eat some leftovers...
join more poetry friends for Poetry Friday at Live Your Poem where Irene Latham is hosting today.