Deep In The Forrest

"On a Day Like Today" We would awaken at Dawn and sit out on the lawn drink your coffee, extra strong, on a day like today... As we watched our butterflies, shaping clouds, in blue skies, as the breeze blows, gentle sighs, on a day like today. There would be talk of old times, remembering nursery rhymes; thoughts of those who'd left us behind, how we missed them, how they shined; Now it's just me here, I rewind picturing this, tears leave me blind; But for all those thoughts that stray, watching April chasing May, I think of all I'd love to say (to you) On a Day Like Today  By Jacqueline Wood  For Mama (my butterfly) April 18, 2017

Warning: I was feeling quite melancholy tonight, I wrote this poem for my Daddy. Oh, I did it to myself. That's one of my gifts, heavy emotion, making myself all sad... but it's o.k., I don't mind. I would rather feel, and go through pain, and come out the other side shining than never to have loved, or felt, or been so loved at all. If you knew my family, and my friends you would sure know how lucky I am. That being said, and if you have dared to go this far, then read on. "Just Not Forever" (For Daddy - 8/29/27 - 1/14/09) I know what they say is true How things appear to be but all I really want is for you to come home sit across the table have a cup of coffee we'll share a laugh or two maybe we'll even argue but you'll be there and things will be right again This world is really messed up without you here to talk to, to tell my jokes to and to laugh with oh, without your shoulder to cry on when I'm sad when things go sliding from good down to ba...

They are dead; but they live in each Patriot's breast, And their names are engraven on honor's bright crest. ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Cover them over with beautiful flowers, Deck them with garlands, those brothers of ours, Lying so silent by night and by day Sleeping the years of their manhood away. Give them the meed they have won in the past; Give them the honors their future forcast; Give them the chaplets they won in the strife; Give them the laurels they lost with their life. ~Will Carleton REMEMBER... HONOR... FREEDOM IS NOT FREE Grass PILE the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Shovel them under and let me work-- I am the grass; I cover all. And pile them high at Gettysburg And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun. Shovel them under and let me work. Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor: What place is this? Where are we now? I am the grass. Let me work. Sandburg, Carl. 1918. Cornhuskers.