Annual Solar Eclipse in North Texas on May 20, 2012
The Solar Eclipse
A one life wonder
A treasure to behold.
Animals all ponder
Stories have been told.
Farmers don’t have a clue
Everybody glares at this sight.
People climb for a better view
Suddenly day turns to night.
Everyone tries to get a glimpse
Out of the blue it turns cold.
Will there be a apocalypse
Next time it occurs, everyone will be old.
Sara, Kevin and Katelynn in New Braunfels
Walk with me, Daddy
Walk along side me,
Daddy and hold my little hand.
I have so many things to learn that
I don’t yet understand.
Teach me things to keep me safe
from the dangers everyday.
Show me how to do my best
at home, at school, at play.
Every child needs a gentle hand
to guide them as they grow.
So walk along side me, Daddy.
We have a long way to go.
Today is the Last Day of School for Katelynn and Sara. Here is a funny poem I found online:
From the book “What I Did on My Summer Vacation”/Illustrated by Stephen Carpenter
The Last Day of School
Summer vacation is starting today.
The teachers are shouting out, “Hip, hip, hooray!”
Our grumpy old principal grins ear to ear
and runs down the hall shouting, “Summer is here!”
The buses come early. (They’re usually late.)
The teachers say, “Hurry up! Pack up! Don’t wait!”
The school bell is ringing. There’s no time to chat.
The whole school is emptied in one second flat.
Everyone’s happy. Our spirits are flying
Except for our parents – they are sulking and crying.
by Robert Pottle
Mute Swan at Josey Ranch Lake
Snow white wings flutter,
Shimmering in bright light.
Her body glides gracefully –
A beautiful sight.
The water smooth as glass,
Crystal clear and cool.
Oblivious to the world outside,
She reigns her stately pool.
She spreads her angelic wings,
On misty morning dew,
Then flies away without a sound,
Beyond the sky of blue.
by Sharon K. Shubert
Sweet Pea Blossom (Lathyrus odoratus)
By helpful fingers taught to twine
Around its trellis, grew
A delicate and dainty vine;
The bursting bud, its blossom sign,
Inlaid with honeyed-dew.
Developing by every art
To floriculture known,
From tares exempt, and kept apart,
Careful, as if in some fond heart
Its legume germs were sown.
So thriving, not for me alone
Its beauty and perfume–
Ah, no, to rich perfection grown
By flower mission loved and known
In many a darkened room.
And once in strange and solemn place,
Mid weeping uncontrolled,
Upon the crushed and snowy lace
I saw them scattered ’round a face
All pallid, still, and cold.
Oh, some may choose, as gaudy shows,
Those saucy sprigs of pride
The peony, the red, red rose;
But give to me the flower that grows
Petite and pansy-eyed.
Thus, meditation on Sweet Peas
Impels the ardent thought,
Would maidens all were more like these,
With modesty–that true heartsease–
Tying the lover’s knot.
by Hattie Howard