TREES

I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the sweet earth's flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.

~ Joyce Kilmer~

(The photo above: Hyde Park-June 2009)

***

Larry was quiet today when he left for meetings in Ft Worth. Libby and Mitzu are sleeping in their puppy beds. Snoring to be sure, and very unhappy that I will leave them for a few hours this morning. I will be helping at Church, getting things ready for Vacation Bible School next week.

I am distracted but content. There is something very good about making a decision that you have avoided for months. It is a relief of sorts, even though you know that there will be difficult moments ahead. A decision....a plan that works, and will make me feel better again.

I have not painted in weeks. Perhaps I just have not felt well enough. The thought of getting a fresh canvas out, thrills me, and that is good.

It is juillet, mercredi 22. My French, practice phrase for the day is: On va secher les habits a l'exterieur.......which means, we're going to dry the clothes outside. Lets say it once more together, slowly......On va secher les habits a l'exterieur.

Love you beyond the clothes line.

Me