The Rose

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double_delight 3

Throughout history the simple rose, a beautiful fragrant flower, has been the source of much that has been written about life, love, beauty and fragrance.

Although the rose, like so much of nature’s gems, appears so defenseless against all of the elements of life, so easily crushed by these elements; roughly picked by less caring humans, she has a hardiness, known to many of her species, as they continue daily enduring to survive in their environment.

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Every Dog Has His Day…..

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“Every Dog has his Day and every Bitch – Two Afternoons.”

(American Proverb)

Dogs

 

 There was once a dog, call “Dog” and his mate called “Bitch”.

They lived in a comfortable suburban home with their owners.

Every day started with a bowl of dog food porridge and every day ended

with a bowl of dry biscuits. In between they drank from bowls of water.

On Sunday’s they were given bones from the owners table, after they

finished their meal.

On being handed their bones,

Dog would run away and bury his bone, returning to snatch Bitch’s

from her, eating it and then saying, “Haven’t you heard,

‘Every Dog has His Day!’ Sunday is my day – ha! ha!”

The following Monday, whilst Dog was fast asleep dreaming of Doggy Bone Land,

Bitch searched until she found Dog’s buried bone, which she ate with relish,

carefully burying the remnants. The following afternoon Bitch dug up the

remnants and ate those too.

On Wednesday Dog went off happily to find his bone, which of course was

not there!

He was furious and snarled at Bitch, who responded nonchalantly; “Haven’t you heard:

‘Every Dog has his day and every Bitch two afternoons, haha!”

All Rights reserved sirpeterjamescotcom©01.01.19

If you feel this article has value, please send this link to others, Writings are meant for people, not for dormant files in our computers and very often when we share them, it results in positive changes in the lives of individuals and communities.

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Resplendent Heaven

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Stars in heavens

I was all of twenty years old and in love. We met at a Fabric Designers workshop and the moment my eyes gazed into hers, I knew I had reached heaven on earth.

She invited me to join her for a weekend getaway in the mountains, with her Fabric Designers Group.

At nineteen she was the youngest member, not outgoing, but with a warm inviting personality and quick affinity, which drew old and young to her. Her soft British accent with its quaint idiosyncrasies and expressions gave her added magnetism. She was pretty with full curly hair down to her shoulders and whilst men happily looked her way (too frequently for my liking) she booked no shallow talk nor nonsense. I saw beauty, warmth and strength wholly in one precious woman.

After all the joviality of meeting the group, we went off to our rooms. Amid romantic imaginings I drifted off to sleep. At about 2 am I woke up and could not go back to Stars in heavens 3sleep. Dressing up warmly, (it was cool in the mountains.) decided to go for a walk.

Stepping out the front door and closing it as quietly as I could, I looked up to see a figure standing on the lawn – it was her! “Hello,” she whispered, “Trouble sleeping?” she continued. “Yes,” I stuttered, overwhelmed at seeing her.

“Follow me.” She instructed. Taking my hand, she led me to the bottom of the garden. Stopping, she turned and spoke softly into my ear.  “Lie down and look up into the heavens.” Did I detect a huskiness in her voice?

We lay down, side by side and once again she took my hand. We gazed upwards. “Here in the mountains, in winter especially, you will view the universe with new eyes; s stars-in-heavens-2.jpgthis is because there is no unnatural light, as in the city.” She whispered.

We gazed at a most startlingly lucid vista of the firmament, with paling moon, stars of every shape and size, bright constellations everywhere. A shooting star flashed across the magnificent scene.

“Oh! She sighed, how resplendent, Isn’t it…? Everything so limitless, brilliant: the stars glittering, like diamonds in a transcendent pool. “

Deep within me, were strong feelings that sensed the pulsing of her hand as it held mine, the warm touch of her body alongside me. I longed to tell her of the resplendent heaven inside my heart, beating with an excitement, I had not experienced before. I longed to share my feelings with her but felt afraid to do so. “Maybe it was too early in our meeting, for me to open my heart so.” I reasoned.

“Are you enjoying this experience?” She turned to me.

“I am in a resplendent heaven, oh yes, I am. I could gaze at this magnificent scene forever” I responded in a voice too choked for my liking, as it fought its way past my impassioned emotion and did not allow me to add, “with you, beautiful lady”.

All rights reserved sirpeterjamesdotcom©2019-06-30

If you feel this article has value, please send this link to others, Writings are meant for people, not for dormant files in our computers and very often when we share them, it results in positive changes in the lives of individuals and communities.

If you are spiritually inclined see my other site; www.adcrucemchristi.com

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button).

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Little Prince – Book Review Part Two

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The Little Prince 

In the original book review, I discussed aspects of the book written by Antoine De Saint-Exupery. See Previous publication.

However, as promised, I will now take you on a behind the scenes journey in terms of the lives of the author and his wife, Consuelo Suncin and finally the death of the author.

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The Little Prince

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Little Prince 3

 

A Book Review

The Little Prince was authored by Antoine De Saint-Exupery (1900-1943), a French nobleman, in 1943.

De Saint-Exupery was an aviator and the author of several bestselling novels, but the Little Prince far exceeded his wildest dreams. Continue reading

Trail of Wilderness

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Medieval Prose by sirpeterjames.com

Youth in Wilderness

Along the trail of wilderness wandered I ,my heart did cry, who am, I who am I?

Yet no reply, no reply came to my reporte. Yet did the wind call in its flight yonder.

Is this the voice I seek, the voice of my thoughtse? Nay, surely not; the wind is but a knave seeking willful sporte.

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Early Morning

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I LOVE TO WATCH A SUN RISE
ACROSS THE FIELDS FAR WAY,
SPLASHES OF COLOR, BRIGHT SHADES OF RED
IT IS A SIGNAL OF A BEGINNING DAY.

THE CLOUDS MARCHING ACROSS THE SKY
FLUFFY BILLOWS OF SOFT WHITE,
THE SUN PEEKING UP OVER THE MOUNTAIN
PROMISING TO TAKE THE DARKNESS OF NIGHT.

THE FLOWERS BEGIN TO OPEN THEIR PEDALS
THEY HAVE BEEN SLEEPING OVERNIGHT,
ALL THE LOVELY SHADES OF PINK, YELLOW AND BLUE
STANDING THERE DAMP WITH MORNING DEW.

AT THE FIRST HINT OF DAYLIGHT
THE BIRDS BEGIN TO SING,
THEIR MUSIC CAN BE HEARD IN EVERY TREE
AS THEIR MELODIES BEGIN TO RING.

IT IS USUALLY VERY QUIET AT DAYBREAK
OFF IN THE DISTANCE I HEAR A ROOSTER CROW,Rooster at Sunrise
THE EARTH IS STILL SLEEPING NOT YET AWAKE
TIME TO GET UP, HE JUST WANTS US TO KNOW.

IT IS SO QUIET AND PEACEFUL
SITTING OUT UNDER A SHADE TREE,
READING THE DAILY NEWSPAPER
ENJOYING A GLASS OF ICE COLD TEA.

I WATCH A LITTLE LADY BUG
AS SHE TRAVELS IN A HURRY,
ACROSS A LEAF GOING REALLY NOWHERE
SHE DOESN’T SEEN TO MIND OR HAVE A WORRY.

A BUTTERFLY LANDS ON A MORNING GLORY
HIS LITTLE WINGS DIP UP AND DOWN,
SOON HE WILL LEAVE THAT FLOWER
AND SAIL TO OTHERS ALL AROUND.

A BUMBLE BEE HAS ALSO BEEN VISITING
HE OFTEN COMES QUITE NEAR,
HIS LITTLE WINGS MAKE A LOVELY SOUND
IF YOU LISTEN – YOU CAN HEAR.

I WISH EARLY MORNING LASTED LONGER
BUT I MUST GET BUSY AND START MY DAY,
BEFORE I KNOW IT THE SUN WILL START TO SINK
AND ON MY PILLOW, MY HEAD I WILL LAY.

BUT FOR NOW I WILL LINGER A FEW MOMENTS LONGER
NO NEED TO RUSH THE MORNING AWAY,
WON’T BE LONG UNTIL SPRING WILL TURN INTO WINTER
AND OUT HERE IN MY YARD I WON’T BE ABLE TO STAY.

Author: ADINE CATHEY

Submitted By: hayseed

https://www.scrapbook.com/poems/doc/33007.html

All rights reserved sirpeterjamesdotcom©2018-01-20

If you feel this article has value, please send this link to others, Writings are meant for people, not for dormant files in our computers and very often when we share them, it results in positive changes in the lives of individuals and communities.

If you are spiritually inclined see my other site; www.adcrucemchristi.com

Please feel free to send in questions (see ‘Contact’) and comments (hit ‘Comments’

button).

A Tailor’s Shoppe

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Tailors Shoppe

 

Per chance, there was a day, when as I went, I espied, that there were a tailor’s shoppe along the waye.

Surely, I cried, this is the place that I should seek, to have those changes to my attire that I wish to make.

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Clarence the Caterpillar (Part Two)

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Clarence was terrified and began wriggling for all he was worth. The bird swooped towards the river, heading for her young ones in their nest. Clarence managed to squirm free and fell headlong into the water, where a fish took a bite at him, narrowly missing and in doing so, knocked him onto the bank. Badly shaken, bruised and cold he huddled under the safety of some rocky cover. Continue reading