9/21/2009
9/18/2009
9/12/2009
9/11/2009
"A Red, Red Rose"
That's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve's like the melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare-thee-weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile!
9/08/2009
I`m sad
The Yellow Rose
They say a yellow with long and thorny stem, stands for friendship's of which we may not amend.
Where we tread carefully, yet graciously, among the myriad of friends we know.
They say the paupers gardens, are where the hardiest flowers may be. For there they grow abundant both wild and free.
They also say, if I picked just one, and handed it to you my friend. It would mean a whole new garden for me!
Author : Bob Morrow ©
They say its flower petals collect a human dew. One tear of gladness one of sorrow, in a light a sharing, to best pronounce its hue.
They speak of gardens as long as lifetimes, where many yellow roses grow.
Author : Bob Morrow ©
9/03/2009
9/02/2009
9/01/2009
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