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The sun in shining, the grass is green,
The orange and palm trees sway.
There’s never been such a day in Beverly Hills, L.A.
But it’s December, the twenty-fourth,
And I am longing to be up North.
Chorus:
I’m dreaming of a White Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the tree-tops glisten
And children listen
to hear sleigh bells in the snow.
I’m dreaming of a White Christmas
With every CHRISTMAS CARD I write
“May your days be merry and bright
And may all your Christmases be white.
~~ @ ~~
My mother recalls the time when both my brother and youngest sister lost their front teeth at about the same time, so they sang this song at Christmas time during an Sunday evening service. Wouldn’t it be so cute to have closeup’s of your children’s toothless grin in a scrapbook next to this song?
All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth.
Song by Don Gardner.
Everybody stops and stares at me
These two teeth are gone as you can see
I don’t know just who to blame for this catastrophe!
But my one wish on Christmas Eve is as plain as it can be!
Chorus:
All I want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth,
My two front teeth, see my two front teeth!
Gee, if I could only have my two front teeth,
Then I could wish you, “Merry Christmas”
It seems so long since I could say,
“Sister Susie sitting on a thistle!”
Gosh oh gee, how happy I’d be,
If I could only whistle – (thhh).
All I want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth,
My two front teeth, see my two front teeth.
Gee, if I could only have my two front teeth,
Then I could wish you “Merry Christmas!”
~~ @ ~~
Paper Doll.
Song by Johnny S. Black. 1915.
I’m goin’ to buy a Paper Doll that I can call my own,
A doll that other fellows cannot steal.
And then the flirty, flirty guys with their flirty, flirty eyes,
Will have to flirt with dollies that are real.
When I come home at night she will be waiting,
She’ll be the truest doll in all this world.
I’d rather have a Paper Doll to call my own,
Than have a fickleminded real live girl.
Now, if I can blow my own horn???? I wrote this back in the 70s.
A Christmas Tree
A Christmas tree standing out in the cold
Wearing a sign with one word on it ... SOLD.
A Chrismas tree going to a place where it's warm
To make people happy and not be near harm.
A Christmas tree party, decorations come out
As everyone gathers around it & shout
A Christmas tree looking as grand as can be
And everyone saying... "Look! How lovely!"
A Christmas tree waiting for the holiday's end
When undressed of its glitter, can no longer bend.
A Christmas tree standing out in the cold,
No longer wearing the sign on it .... SOLD!
Glitterbabe, blow that horn all you want! ;) Have you written any others? Go right ahead and share!
My husband's mother used to sing "Billy Boy" to him when he was a small child. I plan on using it on a scrapbook page for him. You can find a copy of the song at this website. www.contemplator.com
The Only Thing I Want for Christmas
Song written by Knight-Lang-Porter, sung by Eddie Cantor.
Reporter: "Excuse me, Mr. Cantor, I'm from the Associated Press.
We're interviewing some of the stars out here in Hollywood.
Tell me, what do you want for Christmas?"
Mr. Cantor:
"What do I want for Christmas?
Well, it's simple and it's plain.
It isn't tied with ribbons,
or wrapped in cellophane.
If Santa passes by my stocking
I promise not to mind a lot
The only thing I want for Christmas
Is just to keep the things that I've got.
A pair of loving arms around me,
A garden of forget-me-nots,
The only thing I want for Christmas
Is just to keep the things that I've got.
A friend or two, a peaceful sky of blue;
A place to hang my hat,
When work of day is through.
If Santa passes by my chimney
I'll still be happy, like as not,
The only thing I want for Christmas
Is just to keep the things that I've got.
You know, there's a lot of unhappiness in the world today
But we still have peace over here.
In this country, we really have Christmas
Three hundred sixty-five days each year.
The only thing I want for Christmas
Is just to keep the things that I've got.
~~ @ ~~ Grandma
By Ken Brown. 1973.
We'd go to the woods together
And in our buckets cram
The freshest sweet blackberries
For canning season's jam.
We'd gather eggs together
And know they all were good;
We'd talk to all the chickens
As though they understood.
We'd climb the hill for water --
With a pailful in each hand
We'd start back home & I'd tire out
But she would understand.
We'd sit out on the porch swing
And look to the starlit sky;
She'd tell me about God's heaven
Or about a small firefly.
When bedtime came at her house
She tucked me in my bed
And always read a story
Before my prayers were said.
My fondest childhood memories
In many special ways
Were the times I spent with Grandma
Back in the good old days.
~~ @ ~~ Grandpa.
By Ken Brown, 1975.
We'd get up just at daybreak;
With our lunch and fishin' pole --
We'd walk a sparkling meadow
To our favorite fishin' hole.
We'd spend the day together
Where he tinkered in his shop;
I'd pretend to be his helper
As he'd mend old things to swap.
We'd tend the lawn and garden
And I'd get to help him mow.
We'd check the cornstalks daily --
We could almost see them grow!
We'd ride to town together
Which was really quite a treat
He'd often buy me ice cream
And see old friends on the street.
We'd shared so many moments
In my young and carefree years --
All his stories filled with laughter
And his comfort for my tears.
Those yesterdays with Grandpa
Were a very special kind
Of pleasant childhood memories
Etched so fondly in my mind.
~~ @ ~~ Sweetheart.
Author Unknown.
I thought that you would like to know
That someone's thoughts go where you go;
That someone never can forget
The hours we spent since first we met.
That life is richer sweeter far
For such a sweetheart as you are,
And now my constant prayer will be
That God may keep you safe for me!
Woman was made of a rib
Out of the side of Adam,
Not out of his feet to be trampled upon,
But out of his side to be equal with him,
Under his arm to be protected,
And near his heart to be loved.
Hi everyone, hoping you can help me find a sympathy verse for a four year old child who had her life taken in very traumatic and tragic circumstances. I want to send it to the Mother, Nanna and an Aunt of the child.
I am so very sorry for their and your loss. There is no greater pain than a loss of a child...
-------------------------------------------------
Here are some poems I came across:
Quote:
Until the day you're reunited
Remember your little one is safe
In our Savior's Arms
In a very special place.
In Heaven there must surely be
A special place, a nursery
Where 'little spirits' not fully grown
Go to live in their Heavenly home.
The angels must attend with love
Tiny spirits on wings of doves,
The choir of angels must sing lullabies
Maybe quieten their tiny cries.
The Father must come by each day
To cuddle and play in a special way
These tiny spirits left earth too soon
Little ones called Home from the womb.
These sparks of life did not perish
But came to the Father's love to cherish,
To grow and be taught in His own arms
Safely away from all earthly harm.
The comforter was sent to earth at once
To the parents who lost their little one
Their hearts so ache, t heir arms feel empty
The question 'why' seems so tempting.
Then all at once in the midst of tears
There comes a peace that stills the fears
The parents share the Father's own need
To hold their tiny spirit being.
They relinquish their own desperate hold
And release their baby to the Father's fold,
Then comes an angel to whisper the truth
Of a nursery in Heaven bearing rich fruit
Of tiny spirits chosen to worship the Father
A place that couldn't be filled by another,
Called to be spared from the struggles of earth,
Chosen to be one of Heaven's births.
So Father, whisper words of love from me
To our unborn 'life' in your nursery.
Silent Child
by Kelly Lancor
My silent child
our precious baby,
Close to my heart
I'll keep you with me.
An important job
God has for you,
There is love to give,
and work to do.
He needs an angel
strong but small,
To shine light on many
and give love to all.
Before you go
I give you this,
half my heart
and one last kiss.
We'll miss you dearly
that we know,
But by God you were
chosen,
So to heaven, you must go
I�ll lend you for a little while,
A child of mine, He said,
For you to love her while she lives,
And mourn for when she�s dead.
It may be six or seven years.
Or twenty-two, or three,
But will you, till I come again,
Take care of her for me?
She�ll bring her charms to gladden you,
And should her stay be brief,
You�ll have her loving memories
As solace to your grief.
Location: rockin' the pink mojo wig in Ottawa, Canada
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First time I have seen this tread and it has been going since 2006!
What a wealth of info - thanks to everyone for all the posts!
__________________ Some call me Pinky, some call me Lori - I answer to both Pinky's Pictorial DREAM as if you could live forever, LIVE as if you only have today.
A child dying is a tragic loss. I so feel for the parents and family. I lost my first child by miscarriage and we had tried for several years to have one. I miss my unborn child; I can't imagine what it is like for someone to have known a child and lost her/him. God was gracious to me and gave me another one to hold. I pray that God is gracious to this family and gives them comfort.
I've been collecting poetry since I was in the 6th grade. But not too much in the craftin' genre -- at least what someone might want to use in a scrapbook, gift, or on a card. I have another one to upload that I couldn't remember if I have it here or not. A relative sent it to me on her Christmas card she made this year. Enjoy!
"C" is for the Christ Child born on Christmas Day
"H" for herald angels in the night
"R" means our Redeemer
"I" means Israel
"S" is for the star that shone so bright
"T" is for three wisemen
"M" is for the manger where He lay
"A" is for all He stands for
"S" means shepherds came and that's why there's a Christmas Day.
Dear little lamb on the Shepherd's breast, Closely enfolded, how sweet is your rest; Forever shielded from earthly alarms, Perfectly safe in His mighty arms. ~~ @ ~~ He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms And carries them close to his hear: He gently leads those that have young. ~~ Isaiah 40:11, NIV. ~~ @ ~~ Is It Well With The Child? The Letter By Fay Inchfawn.
Dear Lord, It is the child--about the child I'm writing to You, telling all my heart-- My poor torn heart, so tempest-tossed and wild-- Left to me desolate. Faith, sore-eyed and distressed, Forgets her high behest-- Hope, ready to depart-- And only Love remains As warm and wistful now As in the days When little Dancing Feet Slid down the household ways. For, Lord, You took the child. I do not reason with You, though, for that. But here's my plaint--just this: I ache for news-- There, in the heavenly bliss, How is it with the child? Long days I sat So still, in the still house, and said no word; And if You spoke to me, I never heard. But now, tonight I sit alone to let my soul indite This letter to my God. I want to know About the child--I, Lord, who loved her so. My spirit always sang When her dear voice out-rang. And something in me cried When small ills came and settled at her side. I tended her--yes, hair and hands and toes. I knew her, sleeping--waking-- Planned her clothes. And it is I-- Lord--I, who ask some sign, Some tidings of the child who once was mine; For I was nearer her than any other-- Her Mother.
The Reply.
Dear Soul, I have so many things to say, But, yet you cannot bear them, not today-- I know and understand. The promise that My hand Shall help and strengthen Seems far-off and strange-- At best a poor exchange For those remembered days, For all the dear one's wiles And pretty ways. Yet, let your spirit come to Me--to Me. There is no other in the universe Who can your comfort be. For who in all the universe Could prove so skilled and fit To mollify the broken heart As He who fashioned it? You sat so still, and wondered all the while How she would fare Without your kiss--your smile/ You were so joined to her, you half-forgot That I was there. I comprehended her when you could not. But was I unaware? That anguished night Before the darling came You cried to Me. You called upon My name That helpless passionate word I--the life-giver--heard! And you poor wrestler Found your faith prevail, The Little Ship set sail. Yes, ventured forth into life's stormy sea, Bound by the limits of mortality. Listen, Poor Heart! That far-off hour is passed. I am the First. Also, I am the Last. I have her first faint breath And in the hour of death I wrapped her round And held her-- held her fast. Down all the ages, not a fledgling bird Has fallen as it flew But I, its Maker, felt My being stirred, I-- the All-Loving--knew. The child--the child--is by Me. Oh! then come To Me-- the only lawful Medium. She walks the glory-side of Me So, to the other Come now--come near-- Poor broken-hearted Mother. News of the child? How is it with her? Where Is God's high heaven? What is she doing there? Why, if I told you, if I let you see The radiant joys she has for company, If I should draw aside The curtain-- Leave the casement open wide For just one moment-- Flesh and blood would fail. So in His Love The Father hung the veil, Some blessed day It shall be rent in twain, And you shall come Into your own again. O wavering heart! Then let this thought enfold you: That if it were not so I would have told you. Until that day, that hour of joy so sweet, Can you trust Me with little Dancing Feet?
I am the sister of him
And he is my brother.
He is too little for us
To talk to each other.
So every morning I show him
My doll and my book;
But every morning he still is
Too little to look.
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again, just for to-night!
-- Elizabeth Chase Akers, Rock Me to Sleep, Mother
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
-- Mrs. Cecil Frances Alexander, hymn; All Things Bright
=+=+=+=+=+=+= Make new friends,
But keep the old.
One is silver,
And the other's gold.
-- Anonymous.
=+=+=+=+=+=+= "a poem for a gift of garden gloves"
If you can't raise flowers
Or think you're too dumb
Because you don't possess
The proverbial green thumb.
Now you no longer
Have that for a reason,
With these gardening gloves
You can raise flowers any season.
=+=+=+=+=+=+= Farmer Boy
By Grayce Krogh Boller.
I am a happy farmer boy,
With sturdy rake and hoe,
And song-filled heart of gladness
As off to plant I go.
I give each row my special care;
Each plant with love I tend.
But I must pray that God above
Sunshine and rain will send.
=+=+=+=+=+=+= A Fairy in Armor
By Joseph Rodman Drake.
He put his acorn helmet on;
It was plumed on the silk of the thistle down;
The corslet plate that guarded his breast
Was once the wild bee's golden vest;
His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes,
Was formed of the wings of butterflies;
His shield was the shell of a lady-bug green,
Studs of gold on a ground of green; And the quivering lance which he brandished bright,
Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight.
Swift he bestrode his fire-fly steed;
He bared his blade of the bent-grass blue;
He drove his spurs of the cockle-seed,
And away like a glance of thought he flew,
The fiery trail of the rocket-star.
=+=+=+=+=+=+= Planning a Trip
By Nona Keen Duffy.
We're planning our vacation
And places we shall go;
We want to visit Grandma
And other friends we know.
We're packing our belongings,
But we haven't finished yet;
There are so many items
We hope we won't forget!
We mean to pack a lunch box
And take our swimming suits;
We mean to take a kodak And Daddy's high-top boots.
We have the tackle ready
And all the fishing hooks;
We're going to take our checkers
And several story-books.
We have our colored glasses,
Our scarfs and hats and caps,
A thermos and a flashlight
And several handy maps.
We'll take along our bedding
And sleep outdoors at night;
We'll start tomorrow morning
As soon as it is light!
=+=+=+=+=+=+= Every house where love abides
And friendship is a guest,
Is surely home, and home, sweet home
For there the heart can rest.
-- Henry Van Dyke.
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
Genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration. (Thomas Edison).
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
-- Robert Frost, TheRoad Not Taken
=+=+=+=+=+=+= Stopping By a Woods On a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost.
Whose woods these are I think I know,
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a little shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
What are little girls made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice and everything nice,
That's what little girls are made of.
What Are Little Boys Made Of?
What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Frogs and snails, and puppy dogs' tails,
And that's what little boys are made of!
-- Attributed to Mother Goose.
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
The kiss of sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth--
One is nearer God's Heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.
-- Dorothy Frances Gurney (1894-1962), The Lord God Planted a Garden
=+=+=+=+=+=+= The Artist
By Elder Roosevelt Herring, 1935.
With icicles for pencil points
And soft white snow for paint,
Our artist friend, Jack Frost, you know
Draws pictures that are quaint.
Tall castles that are crowned with jewels
When winter sun shines through,
And frosty flowers blossom there
With crystal stars for dew.
White mountains tower up so high,
And icy plains so vast.
Oh, what a shame, when Jack Frost draws,
His pictures never last.
=+=+=+=+=+=+= Bread Making
By E. L.M. King.
Mother's kneading, kneading dough,
In and out her knuckles go;
Till the sticky, shapeless lump
Grows a pillow, smooth and plump.
Then she cuts, pops it in
To the neatly buttered tin,
Leaves it rising high and higher,
While she goes to make the fire.
How the the glad flames leap and roar,
Through the open oven-door;
Till their hot breath, as they play,
Makes us wink and run away.
When they've burnt to embers red
Mother shovels in the bread;
And that warm, delicious smell
Tells her it is baking well.
When it's golden, just like wheat,
We shall get a crust to eat; How I wish we could be fed
Every day on new-made bread!
=+=+=+=+=+=+= To a Little Girl
By Gustav Korbe.
Her eyes are like forget-me-nots,
So loving, kind and true;
Her lips are like a pink sea-shell
Just as the sun shines through;
Her hair is like the waving grain
In summer's golden light;
And, best of all, her little soul
Is, like a lily, white.
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
We may live without poetry, music and art:
We may live without conscience, and live without heart;
We may live without friends; we may live without books;
But civilized man cannot live without cooks.
-- Owen Meredith, Lucile
=+=+=+=+=+=+= T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring -- not even a mouse:
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
-- Clement Clarke Moore, A Visit from St. Nicholas
=+=+=+=+=+=+= Thanks
By Ollie James Robertson.
Writing letters is fun for me;
I must send a lot today,
A dozen at least, maybe more.
In every one I'll say,
"I like the Christmas gift you sent,
It brings me hours of cheer,
And with my thanks I wish for you
The happiest New Year!"
=+=+=+=+=+=+= The Swing
By Robert Louis Stevenson.
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think its the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
Rivers and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside--
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown--
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
=+=+=+=+=+=+= Bless This House
By Helen Taylor.
Bless this house, O Lord, we pray,
Make it safe by night and day;
Bless these walls, so firm and stout,
Keeping want and trouble out;
Bless the roof and chimneys tall,
Let they peace lie over all;
Bless this door, that it may prove
Ever open to joy and love.
=+=+=+=+=+=+=
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go:
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
-- Alfred, Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam
=+=+=+=+=+=+= My Friends
By Elizabeth Whittemore.
My friends are little lamps to me,
Their radiance warms and cheers my ways,
And all the pathway dark and lone
Is brightened by their rays.
I try to keep them bright by faith,
And never let them dim with doubt;
For every time I lose a friend
A little lamp goes out.
You send me to the folks you love
With words like, "Please be mine!"
I'm often heart-shaped, colored red;
I am a _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _!
~~ @ ~~ The Valentine Shop
By Elder Roosevelt Herring, 1935.
Right next door to where I stop
Is the cutest little shop
With Valentines just everywhere --
I always pause a while and stare.
There are such big ones on the wall,
And on the counter, some quite small;
The little ones, my penny buys,
The bigger ones, just call for sighs.
The children gather at the door
And then run in to buy some more,
To have enough for every one,
Oh, Valentines are lots of fun!
~~ @ ~~ The Sweetstuff Wife
By Eleanor Farjeon.
The Sweetstuff Wife in the queer little shop
Has four little window-panes
With bottles of bulls-eye and lollipop,
Peardrop, lemon drop, chocolate drop,
Boxes of gay tin trains,
Comfits of every color too,
With mottos on them, like "I Love You"
And "Do You Love Me?" "Be Kind," "Be True,"
And horses with fluffy manes,
And sawdust dollies with china heads,
And painted tea-sets, and tiny beds,
And balls with quarters of blues and reds,
And butterfly aeroplanes, And sugar biscuits, and sweet cigars,
And ninepins, and wind-up motor-cars,
And masks and crackers and silver stars
And paper flowers and chains.
~~ @ ~~ Mother's Valentine
By Velda Blumhagen.
(Small child holding Valentine)
This is my nicest valentine,
All trimmed with hearts and flowers.
I tried to be so careful,
And I worked just hours and hours.
That's my picture in the middle;
And I wrote these verses here. (opens valentine)
I tried to do my very best,
It's for my Mother dear.
~~ @ ~~ Love
By Mary Carolyn Davies.
I love you
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can't help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song . . .
~~ @ ~~
What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies. (Aristotle).
I wrote this for Valentine's Day cards that I made. It refers to candy truffles.
It was inspired by my father, who never saw a truffle he didn’t like! The card is in my recently-begun gallery.
Ode to Truffles
by Cathy Roler 2009
With flavors of mocha, and raspberry cream,
From champagne to vanilla and all in between,
With tops sprinkled, or drizzled, dark chocolate or light
There’s no end to the types of truffles I like!
Open a box and you’ll see what I mean,
What some people can do with rich chocolate and cream.
A most heavenly smell fills the air ‘round my nose
And sends a big tingle clear down to my toes.
My mouth starts to water, what a beautiful sight!
With glee I partake of that first luscious bite.
All melty and smooth, it’s a taste so divine,
You’ll be yearning to savor them all of the time!
Alas, from my lips to my hips, the truffles they go,
And triglyceride numbers, the truffles will grow.
So I must be content to eat these in my dreams,
Because sadly, my pants know the truffles I’ve seen!
Sometimes in life, you find a special friend
someone who changes your life
by being a part of it.
Someone who makes you laugh until you can't stop;
someone who makes you believe
that there really is good in the world.
Someone who convinces you
that there is an unlocked door
just waiting for you to open it.
This is forever friendship.
When you're down,
and the world seems dark and empty,
your forever friend lifts you up in spirit
and makes that dark and empty world
suddenly seem bright and full.
Your forever friend gets you through
the hard times, the sad times,
and the confused times.
If you turn and walk away,
your forever friend follows.
If you lose your way,
your forever friend guides you and cheers you on.
Your forever friend holds your hand
and tells you that everything is going to be okay.
And if you find such a friend,
you feel happy and complete,
because you need not worry.
You have a forever friend for life.
Mother, I'm tired, and I would fain be sleeping;
Let me repose upon thy bosom sick;
But promise me that thou wilt leave off weeping,
Because thy tears fall hot upon my cheek.
Here it is cold: the tempest raveth madly;
But in my dreams all is so wondrous bright;
I see the angel-children smiling gladly,
When from my weary eyes I shut out light.
Mother, one stands beside me now! and, listen!
Dost thou not hear the music's sweet accord?
See how his white wings beautifully glisten?
Surely those wings were given him by the Lord!
Green, gold, and red, are floating all around me;
They are the flowers the angel scattereth.
Should I have also wings while life has bound me?
Or, mother, are they given alone in death?
Why dost thou clasp me as if I were going?
Why dost thou press thy cheek so unto mine?
Thy cheek is hot, and yet thy tears are flowing!
I will, dear mother, will be always thine!
Do not sigh thus � it marreth my reposing;
But if thou weep, then I must weep with thee!
Ah, I am tired � my weary eyes are closing �
Look, mother, look! the angel kisseth me!
Hi! I am in need of a funny 40th Birthday poem for my husband. I have googled my self crazy trying to find one. I have started one but I think it needs help. Here it goes...
A tank full of gas
and still going strong,
Over the Hill
won't be long!
His card has a truck and a gas can on it.
We don't make mistakes; we only have creative opportunities. (Julie McGuffee). ~~ @ ~~ Need Quotes? Check out these books: Quote Reference Books & CD's. Four spiral volumes, each with 500 quotes per book or 2000 in all, from www.diecutswithaview.com. Each CD can be used to find quotes in its search engine and manipulate each in its word processor to fit your scrapbook page such as enlarging the font size or type or changing the color of the font and printing it yourself at home. ~~ @ ~~ Some verse from "The Very Best from Hallmark: Greeting Cards through the Years" by Ellen Stern. 1988.
Verse By Mary Dorman Lardie, Hallmark's first official staff writer: I've heard it said Bears go to bed And stay all winter through. But I declare You ain't no bear, So here's my wish for you.
Another one by Mary Dorman Lardie: A Birthday Letter to My Son in the Service.
Dear Son, Not many years ago I knew the perfect joy That comes to every mother of a little baby boy I said a little prayer for strength and wisdom, too, to see Just how to make my boy the boy I hope that he would be. Your father was so proud of you, that, really I'm not joking He gave enough cigars away to keep the whole town smoking. We thought you were a wonder child and Son, to tell the truth, We almost sent our telegrams when you got your first tooth. We were so proud of things you'd be and cute things you would say That how you kept from being spoiled, I don't know to this day. The weeks and months grew into years, the years passed one by one And only brought more reasons to be prouder of you, Son. And sometimes when things went all wrong, I longed to baby you But that's among the things a mother soon learned not to do. And now it means so very much to see you -- strong and fine The brave young man who used to be that little boy of mine. We mothers have to stay at home, but we keep busy too. And everything that I have done has been for boys like you. But buying bonds and Red Cross work and pastimes we're pursuing Seems almost nothing, Son, compared to what you boys are doing. So please forgive your Mom today if she's been sentimental. And there's no reason to pretend that it's been "accidental." I've just been reminiscing, as Mother's apt to do And in my heart I said a prayer that all is well with you. I'll close with "Happy Birthday" and a hope you'll be home soon. I'll bake you a great big birthday cake and let you sleep till noon! With all my love, Mom! ~~ @ ~~ The authors of these sentiments were not mentioned. Couldn't you just PICTURE how these sentiments would go with certain images on a card? =0)
1920s = Excuse me for BUTTON-IN, but gosh - I want you for my Valentine. Just BUTTON-IN with a big wish for a happy Valentine's Day -- for You! Here's a CHICK little greeting to wish You a Happy Easter! Here's a DUCKY little greeting to wish you Happy Easter! You've surely got my GOAT! Just HUNTING for a Valentine! Don't LOCK me out of your heart. I want to be your Valentine. It's PLANE to see, I'm all taken UP with You! Some RATTLING Good News! Is it SAFE-TA-PIN my faith in you And choose you - for my Valentine. Stop SEE-SAWING and be my Valentine. My heart: The rent'-SPADE. Step right in - and make yourself at home. Real Presidential TIMBER. Wish you could tuck me in your TRUNK and take me along! Best wishes for a Happy Trip! I'm all TUNED up to be your Valentine. It's a WHALE of a wish for a Happy Birthday! This is no fish tale! If you'd be my Valentine, It certainly would be a FEATHER in my cap.
I am created by God. I am created in his image. I am creative. ~~ @ ~~ The Human Touch By Spencer Michael Free
�Tis the human touch in this world that counts, The touch of your hand and mine, Which means far more to the fainting heart Than shelter and bread and wine; For shelter is gone when the night is o�er, And bread lasts only a day, But the touch of the hand and the sound of the voice Sing on in the soul alway. ~~ @ ~~ Toddler Property Laws Author Unknown.
If I like it, it�s mine. If it�s in my hand, it�s mine. If I can take it from you, it�s mine. If I had it a little while ago, it�s mine. If it�s mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way. If I�m doing or building something, all the pieces are mine. If it looks just like mine, it is mine. If I saw it first, it�s mine. If you are playing with something and you put it down, it automatically becomes mine. If it�s broken, it�s yours. ~~ @ ~~ Anybody know this verse/song? I think it's by Seona MacDowell. Does anybody have a complete version?
Nobody loves me Everybody hates me I�m gonna go eat some worms. . . .
Several members were asking for poems by famous Americans such as Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson. You can find them on this website: www.americanpoems.com
~~ @ ~~ Historical Tidbit: Did You Know?
That Charles Currier, brother to Nathaniel Currier of the Currier & Ives prints, invented the Crayola and patented it c. 1841.
~~ @ ~~ Footprints in the Sand.
By Mary Stevenson., from the website, www.footprints-inthe-sand.com
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
Other times there were one set of footprints. This bothered me because I noticed
That during the low periods of my life,
When I was suffering from
Anguish, sorrow, or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.
So I said to the Lord,
"You promised me Lord,
That if I followed you,
You would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
There have only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?"
The Lord replied,
"The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
Is when I carried you."
~~ @ ~~ Our work is our signature upon the world, let us write with care and love. (Phillip Zeleski).
~~ @ ~~ The Love of God
By Frederick M. Lehman, 1917.
The love of God is greater far
Than tongue or pen can ever tell;
It goes beyond the highest star,
And reaches to the lowest hell.
The guilty pair, bowed down with care,
God gave His Son to win;
His erring child He reconciled,
And pardoned from his sin.
When years of time shall pass away, And earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,,
When men who here refuse to pray,
On rocks and hills and mountains call,
God's love so sure shall still endure,
All measureless and strong;
Redeeming grace to Adam's race --
The saints' and angels' song.
Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Tho' stretched from sky to sky.
An inquiry was made about the above song and asked if anyone knew the words. Check below:
Version I:
Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
Guess I'll go eat worms,
Long, thin, slimy ones; Short, fat, juicy ones,
Itsy, bitsy, fuzzy wuzzy worms.
Down goes the first one, down goes the second one,
Oh how they wiggle and squirm.
Up comes the first one, up comes the second one,
Oh how they wiggle and squirm.
Version II
Nobody loves me, everybody hates me
Think I'll go and eat worms
Long ones, short ones, fat ones, thin ones
See how they wriggle and squirm
I bite off the heads, and suck out the juice
And throw the skins away
Nobody knows how fat I grow
On worms three times a day
Ohh...nobody loves me.
Version III:
Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
Think I'll go eat worms.
Big fat juicy ones, Eensie weensy squeensy ones,
See how they wiggle and squirm.
Chomp off their heads and squeeze out the juice
And throw their tails away
Nobody knows how I survive
On worms three times a day.
Version IV:
Nobody likes me, everybody hates me
I'm goin' down the garden to eat worms
Long thin slimy ones, short fat fuzzy ones
Ooey gooey, ooey gooey worms
Long thin slimy ones slip down easily
Short fat fuzzy ones don't
Short fat fuzzy ones stick to your teeth
And the juice goes slurpin' (slurping noise) down your throat
Version V:
Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
think I'll go eat worms...
big fat juicy ones, little slimy skinny ones,
hope they don't have germs!"
Kewpie postcards were printed by the Gibson Art Company about 1912. The Kewpie doll characters were invented by Rose O'Neill and she wrote adventures for them in verse which were published by women's magazine in the early 20th century. Here are some of the verses from the cards. ~~ @ ~~ To My Valentine If you knew how pale and wan And desolate I am, I'm sure you'd come and be my love And share my bread and jam. ~~ @ ~~ Was glad to get that letter from you, I sat right down and read it thru; If it was longer, I'd like it better, However I'll answer soon with a letter. ~~ @ ~~ Another company, Gartner & Bender in Chicago also published Rose O'Neill's cute cherubs on postcards around 1915. Here are some of the verses on them. ~~ @ ~~ If you want to make me happy As happy as can be, Just pack your grip And take that trip To come and visit me. ~~ @ ~~ Several times I've tried to write, And I think and think with all my might; So I send you this to let you know That I'm thinking of you so. ~~ @ ~~ A little bird told me something, And I hope that it comes true; He said that very soon I'd get A letter sent by you. ~~ @ ~~ I wish I had a motor car, Do you know what I would do? I'd jump right in And take a spin As fast as I could to you. ~~ @ ~~ What's the matter? Anything wrong? Seems that I've waited awful long For some news of you, my friend, Where's the word you promised to send?
