Carrie Underwood - Something in The Water [Lyrics Video] 2014

A Picture Speaks a Thousand Words

I think this picture says it all....Marilyn was one of the most intelligent
women I have ever read about.

No dumb blonde.....just a beautiful, big hearted, kind woman who knew more than she ever let on.



The Rainbow Bridge

My very good friend lost her "middle child" this past Saturday.  Dex was 14 years old and a big boy; full of love and kisses.  My heart aches for her and her family.

I've been through this with several of my kitties; but none as painful as the loss of my Kiyoko and MacLennon.......lost is a fire at my condo.  But I am comforted by this poem and I believe that we will be reunited with our lost "children" when we cross over.

Much love to you, my friend......this is for Dex, Kiyoko and MacLennon...

 



Never Let Them Win

The Open Door

 

The door is open, but the room is dark
You said you'd be here, that you'd bring the light;
but you're not here......

But your broken promises, you're empty words,
your smooth, snake-tongued whispers that I foolishly believe
Echo in this darkness....

Happens again and again,
yet I can't stop needing you...
You never see me, never hear me;
It's like I'm invisible, a ghost,
whose screams are silent to your ears....

The door is open, but the room is dark;
You said you'd be here,
that you'd bring the light;
But you're not here, you're never here,
so the room remains forever dark........

The Butterfly Emerges Inspite of All

 

An old gray aluminum  table
A record player bought with my own money;
An album holder, lining up my treasures

A 1950's finished basement where it all sat;
A refugee, a sanctuary, a private haven
where I listened to their voices, their words,
over and over and over again.

Innocent lyrics at first; holding their hands
was easy and safe; and I was a s innocent as those
first songs.

But growth cannot be stopped--their music reflected their
genius, their truths, their  troubles, their souls-----and as
they struggled with the pangs of evolution; I let myself evolve
with them.

John's voice was husky, sensual, weaving his magic,
weaving his pain; weaving his joy;
making me feel "depth" and "real" for the very
first time.

 



50 Years Since the Invasion

 

50 sets of seasons have gone by
50 years of my life has past,
and I sometimes try to sit and "remember"
events that happened--how my life happened
after the Invasion

But it's a blur, one year running into the next;
with a few stand out memories
Nothing has stayed really clear or pivotal,
except one single event, the one that gave my heart
and my soul it's direction--a path--a meaning.

I never knew him personally,
never met him,
yet he changed me forever.
John Lennon made me "feel"
made me "care", made me
"passionate".

But like LuLu sane in "To Sir With Love"
how do you thank someone for taking you
from crayons to perfume?