Down Time’s quaint stream by Emily Dickinson
Without an oar
We are enforced to sail
Our Port a secret
Our Perchance a Gale
What Skipper would
Incur the Risk
What Buccaneer would ride
Without a surety from the Wind
Or schedule of the Tide —
What is your favorite color? : I like BLUE. Any shade of blue will do, though I particularly like that shade that graces the top of a police car when the officer is pulling someone over – hopefully not me though!
Favorite Animal? : Cats – could I be a crazy old cat lady someday? Possibly…..
Favorite Number? : I haven’t really thought about a favorite number, but I do like even numbers better than odd!
Favorite Non-Alcoholic Drink? : Ice. Water. Yum.
Prefer Facebook or Twitter? : Facebook – Twitter’s soundbites just annoy the bejeebers out of me – and yes, I do have a Twitter account that only my WordPress posts go to. I don’t remember the password.
My Passion? : Faith, Family, Fotos.
Prefer Getting Or Giving Gifts? : I am more comfortable giving than receiving.
Favorite Day Of The Week? : Sunday, then Monday – it is the beginning of a fresh new week full of new possibilities!
Favorite Flowers? : Narcissus. No, lilac! No, Lily of the Valley! Or maybe hyacinth or iris. I can’t possibly choose!
I am supposed to award this Sunshine Award to some people, however as I look through all of the fabulous and talented and wonderful folks I follow, I am having a very difficult time choosing just a few! But choose I shall:
Antoinette at the Cooking Spree brings me sunshine in every recipe she beautifully presents.
Dawn at 3 Quarters Today brings me sunshine in every positively positive post!
Bonnie at All I’ve Got is a Photograph brings me sunshine with each sweet comment she gives me and each sweet photo she posts.
I am going to stop at three because my brain is positively *boneless* and weary from making it work so hard! Good night all!
that keeps the breath
of the north-wind —
these and none other;
intimate thoughts and kind
reach out to share
the treasure of my mind,
intimate hands and dear
drawn garden-ward and sea-ward
all the sheer rapture
that I would take
to mould a clear
and frigid statue;
rare, of pure texture,
beautiful space and line,
marble to grace
your inaccessible shrine.