They gave my Chihuahua away, and

The huge stone castle

I am a collector of Merrythoughts . . . For I need all the luck I can gather You only get one per chicken, turkey, squab or game hen, pheasant, goose or peacocky Let them dry then grab a friend Make a wish and hope, cross your fingers, close you eyes, and SNAP Did you get the most, or did your friend, How did the wishbone bend? For wishbones are Merrythoughts And Merrythoughts . . . bones of wishes be I couldn’t wish more than that For you, my soulful friend, And me! --Marcia Myers Right Click Image Save: Download PDF to Print:

I knew a woman once who bore the weight of the world

When I lived here as a boy, there were three giant

I'm sure that each day I absorb light

I love the freedom Of watching moments fall about me, Like the first raindrops of a storm, Like starlight on a moonless night, In the high desert mountains Of New Mexico.

Moon glow blesses the sleeping bay tonight.

Taste joy, said the frog. Put out your tongue and flicker it. Feel the cool of joy Like raindrops in the mouth. Joy flutters like a nervous insect. But you can catch it, Bite on its juicy essence. But to catch it You must be very still, Watchful, Luring it within reach. Gratitude is a good lure… So is trust… Or you can croak a prayer. --Suzanne Graham Right Click Image Save: Download PDF to Print:

The most Beautiful Word might be ethereal, or mellifluous … But the most Wonderful Word in the Thesaurus has to be, "Let's." Let's go, Let's do, Let's see, Let's try, Let's begin, Let's fix. . . Let's eat, Let's dance Too often, we must walk alone, But every now and then some special entity extends their hand, and says, "Let's. . . . . . ." --Marcia Myers Right Click Image Save: Download PDF to Print:

He once was a puppy who could run all day, And chase a ball ‘til my arm hung like a worn down baseball bat . . . He once was a puppy who would walk mile after mile with me, Exploring the world’s seven wonders . . . He once was a puppy who could find me no matter where, when I was lost . . . Every day now I remember the puppy he once was, As we slowly walk his daily route nearly blind . . . I am thankful. --Kurt Kristensen Download PDF to Print: