In your reply to my “America the Beautiful”, in your alarm you conjure up, your poison pills as proscribed in ObamaCare’s Death Panels coined by Sarah Palin and in Obama’s own words take the pills and die (all you old and infirmed).
My patriotic rant you so deplore, explains your mental condition that is absent in your reasoning and heretic brewed reply, you so apply state as my vilification.
In your claim to “empathize” and my lack of balance, you yourself are guilty of disrespect not to empathize America, with a capital “A” that proves to me you’re not American, but a terrorist and un-American. Maybe even a Muslim yourself?
Because you think you think? Only proves you are what have called “a horse’s arse” aka a typical deformed demon-crap, with a consequence on “crap”. Muslims are painfully inhospitable to all and show no love of their children, when they shoot a young girl in the head because she wants to go to school. You are a frelling “IDIOT”.
You dare to further claim, “just like the muslims i’ve met and broke bread with.” This alone is enough to convulse any Christian. The Last Supper was the last supper of the Son of God (not Allah’s) who broke bread that is now quoted and stated clearly daily, you and Muslim’s daily blaspheme.
You and your title as Senior Management at Pleasant View Nursing Home, is a sad commentary of the abyss of America’s liberal education system of which you portray.
This makes me want to know who described the color yellow so well that you in turn wrote a poem so wonderful about it & other mentionables. It's a bit of art begetting art. Inspirations playing off one another.
well, keith, i like to assume certain things about this poem. there are certain charms in it you find you cannot do without, and then, you read it a few more times and realize it is woven that way throughout. a full and complete poem. without saying
anything or anything too much
let's just say I had a printer,
and put it up on my wall
because it means what it means to me, then there would be comfort in that. So,
i have chosen the colour yellow to paint the conservatory walls. of course i need to remove the cobwebs first, but soon they will be clean and bright and so shall my disposition!
i know we need the winds and rain of march, if we want to grow. and i know that constant sunshine can lead to serious desiccation, and 'doing dust' is wearisome; both physically and spiritually.
getting the balance is, i guess, the formula for appreciating what we have in this life. and i should learn to count my blessings, because i have some wonderful friends and the family is really not that bad at all!
i love your poetry. this is made all the better by my being able to read you handwritten words. you have a knack for getting me thinking. this gem, has enabled me to get things here at 55, into perspective. life is too short. sunshine should not be still in the tin of the shelf, down at B&Q.
we should open our hearts and let it shine out of us.
actually, i have to go there shortly, to buy some replacement light bulbs as the bathroom is in semi darkness. i shall cogitate on this, as i plod through the rain drenched streets of pompey.
later: the sun came out yesterday. i have cleared the garden and washed the windows. sunshine is slowly re-entering this house!
not only are you a lover of the color yellow, you are the color yellow...you are sunshine, a gift of the pen a means to an end...even when mixed with march's green...you are beauty and rebirth...spring and summer all in one...
and i like the idea of the sun having no use if yellow was just a paint stored inside...
bad weather can keep us inside and bad relationships can cause us to keep inside of ourselves also...
let it shine...let us all be "curious yellow"----
i like the way this is handwritten...like reading something by emily dickinson...and it has her flavor also.