| Come Sit with Me |
| Come Walk with Me Look! there's the path up on the hill; please come and walk with me. For overtop the hill and down, a meadow we will see. And in the meadow there's a brook that I once waded through, And in the meadow there are flowers of every type and hue. Come walk with me along that brook and share this day with me. As carefree children once again, we live in memory. -- Bonnie Gaunt |
| A Pretty Good Plan If you see a tall fellow ahead of the crowd, A leader of men marching fearless and proud, And you know of a tale whose mere telling aloud Would cause this proud head to in anguish be bowed, It's a pretty good plan...to forget it! If you know of a skeleton hidden away In a closet, and guarded and kept from the day In the dark, whose showing, whose sudden display Would cause grief and sorrow and lifelong dismay, It's a pretty good plan...to forget it! If you know of a spot in the life of a friend, (We all have such spots concealed, world without end), Whose touching his heartstrings would play on and rend Til the shame of its showing no grieving could mend, It's a pretty good plan...to forget it! If you know anything that will darken the joy Of a man or a woman, a girl or a boy, That will wipe out a smile or the least way annoy A fellow, or cause any gladness to cloy, It's a pretty good plan...to forget it! -- Author Unknown |
| Did You Give Him a Lift? Did you give him a lift? He's a brother of man And bearing all the burden he can. Did you give him a smile? He was downcast and blue, And a smile would've helped him to battle it through. Did you give him a hand? He was slipping down hill and the world, so I fancied, was using him ill. Did you give him a word? Did you show him the road? Or did you just let him go on with his load? -- Author Unknown |
| Good Folks When the evening shadows lengthen and the nighttime settles down, I like to sit and ponder on the good folks in our town. The folks who have a moment for the children at their play, And wave a cheery greeting as they pass along the way. The kind of worthy people who would always be your friend, Good folks who'd never fail you, who'd be faithful to the end. Ah, yes, I like to ponder when the evening stars appear, On the good folks of the village who bring happiness and cheer. The folks who never falter when there's something they can do, A burden to be lifted or a friendship to renew. The kindly folks who linger at your bedside when you're ill, And think of naught but comfort as they do your bid and will. For it truly is a blessing to have neighbors dwelling near, Who are always bringing sunshine with a word and smile sincere. And I hope, when shadows deepen and my bark puts out to sea, I'll be guided to that harbor where good folks may welcome me. -- Phil Perkins From an old scrapbook |
| The Friendly Way Oh, I would tread the friendly way, the lanes where children romp and play, The hearty road of fellowship, where brotherhood is found; I do not want the sterner game, where life is but a fight for fame, Nor would I quit the valleys fair to stand on higher ground! -- Edgar Guest |
| The House by the Side of the Road Let me live in a house by the side of the road where the race of men go by... The men who are good and the men who are bad, as good and as bad as I. I would not sit in the scorner's seat, or hurl the cynic's ban... Let me live in the house by the side of the road and be a friend to man. I see from the house by the side of the road, by the side of the highway of life, The men who press on with the ardor of hope, the men who are faint with the strife. But I turn not away from their smiles, nor their tears, both part of an infinite plan... Let me live in the house by the side of the road and be a friend to man. I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead, and mountains of wearisome height; That the road passes on through the long afternoon, and stretches away to the night. And still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice and weep with the strangers that moan, As I live in my house by the side of the road and be a friend to man. -- Sam Walter Foss |
| Come Sit with Me Come sit beside my fire, old friend, and revel in its glow... We'll watch the shadows on the trees, and dream of long ago. We'll talk of things of bygone days, that seldom come to mind; Old times, old scenes, almost forgot, and leave the world behind. And while we sit beside my fire and sniff the pungent oak, We'll stoke our pipes with fragrant leaf, and watch the curling smoke. We'll know a precious, fleeting hour which lends a sweet release From things that tend to sear and scar...and in their stead, find peace. We'll toss aside the fading years, we'll both be boys again, Forgetting all the serious things that haunt the world of men. We'll wander back to childhood and see what we can see; We'll roam the once-familiar paths; we two...just you and me. Ah, there's the dusty, winding road, the old church on the hill; The village store, the bridge, the creek...the farmhouse and the mill; And nestled low among the trees, with sunbeams darting through And shadows playing hide-and-seek, the schoolhouse that we knew. But look, it's fading swiftly now...there's but an ember glow; Our fireside hour of dreams is done, the fire is burning low. But then, it's something rare and fine, of which I never tire... A trip into the Long Ago, with a friend...beside my fire. -- Adam N. Reiter |
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| Unfortunately, I had to turn the computer off for several hours today because of thunderstorms and, when all was clear, there was no time left to search for links. I once made the mistake of ignoring a thunderstorm. In a hurry to finish whatever I was doing, I continued to type --- until a flash of lightning zapped directly in front of me, traveling back and forth between the monitor and the computer for several seconds. When the flash of fire stopped its dance, the computer was smoking and I was checking to see if I had a pulse. Junior, who has a habit of lying right next to my chair, backed away as fast as his paws could carry him and for the next two weeks, took his naps in a corner of the room, as far away from the computer as he could get. He and I agreed that, from that point forward, when a storm started, all cyber-surfing would end! Since most of us live in areas that have been in the grip of a heat wave, I've gone back into the Journal's archives and found some COOLING pages to re-visit. I've, also, included one of my favorite places to visit, my e-friend, Cathy's blog, "Looking Up"...she's posted some photos from her summer at Cape Cod...beautiful! (Next summer, before they leave, I'm going to sneak up to Ohio and hide in the trunk of their car...I don't think they'll even notice me...do you?) Old Cape Cod Looking Up Serenity Penguins and Polar Bears The Set of the Sail |
| Music: As Time Goes By (To save midi, right-click on title & choose 'Save target as.') Journal Index The Past Whispers - Home |
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