Don't Quit

I promised I would try not to neglect you.

I recently remembered this poem I heard before. I think it was from my High School years. Not exactly sure where I heard it, or what made me think of it. I was trying to remember the words so I looked it up and thought I would share it with you.

Don't Quit

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,

When the road your trudging seems all uphill,

When the funds are low, and the debts are high,

And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,

When care is pressing you down a bit,

Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with it's twists and turns,

As everyone of us sometimes learns,

And many a failure turns about,

When he might have won had he stuck it out,

Don't give up though the pace seems slow,

You may succeed with another blow.

Success is failure turned inside out,

The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,

And you never can tell how close you are,

It may be near when it seems so far,

So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit,

It's when things seem worse,

That you must not quit.

-Edgar A. Guest

Under Construction

Sorry, I am temporarily unable to post daily on this site. My life is under construction. If I find something I would like to share with you, I will post it. You can check back from time to time. I will try not to completely abandon you.

Longing For Spring

Longing For Spring

Once a day and sometimes more

I look out my day dream door

To see if spring is out there yet

I'm really anxious, but musn't fret.

I see the snow a melting down

And lots of mud and slush around

I know the grass will surely sprout

and birds and flowers will come out

But why oh why does it take so long?

I'm sure the calendar can't be wrong.

Sunshine fills my heart with cheer

I wish that spring were really here.

-Edna T. Helberg

April Fools!

The first of April, some do say,
Is set apart for All Fools Day.
But why the people call it so,
Nor I, nor they themselves do know.
But on this day are people sent
On purpose for pure merriment!
-Poor Robin's Almanac, 1790

The Rain

The Rain
Pitter-patter, raindrops,
Falling from the sky;
Here is my umbrella
To keep me safe and dry!
When the rain is over,
And the sun begins to glow,
Little flowers start to bud,
And grow, and grow, and grow!
-Anonymous

Spring Cleaning

Did any of you get spring cleaning done over spring break? I would have liked to! Oh well, why do today what you can put off 'till tomorrow!

Spring Cleaning

March bustles in on windy feet

And sweeps my doorstep and my street.

She washes and cleans with pounding rains,

Scrubbing the earth of winter stains.

She shakes the grime from carpet green

Till naught but fresh new blades are seen.

Then, house in order, all neat as a pin,

She ushers gentle springtime in.

-Susan Reiner

Out-of-Doors

We had a couple of great days for playing outside this week. It was so nice to finally send the kids out!

Out-of Doors

The kids are out-of-doors once more;
The heavy leggings that they wore,
The winter caps that covered ears
Are put away, and no more tears
Are shed because they cannot go
Until they're bundled up just so.
No more she wonders when they're gone
If they have put their rubbers on;
No longer are they hourly told
To guard themselves against a cold;
Bareheaded now they romp and run
Warmed only by the kindly sun.
She's put their heavy clothes away
And turned the children out to play,
And all the morning long they race
Like madcaps round about the place.
The robins on the fences sing
A gayer song of welcoming,
And seems as though they had a share
In all the fun they're having there.
The wrens and sparrows twitter, too,
A louder and a noisier crew,
As though it pleased them all to see
The youngsters out of doors and free.
Outdoors they scamper to their play
With merry din the livelong day,
And hungrily they jostle in
The favor of the maid to win;
Then, armed with cookies or with cake,
Their way into the yard they make,
And every feathered playmate comes
To gather up his share of crumbs.
The finest garden that I know
Is one where little children grow,
Where cheeks turn brown and eyes are bright,
And all is laughter and delight.
Oh, you may brag of gardens fine,
But let the children race in mine;
And let the roses, white and red,
Make gay the ground whereon they tread.
And who for bloom perfection seeks,
Should mark the color on their cheeks;
No music that the robin spouts
Is equal to their merry shouts;
There is no foilage to compare
With youngsters' sun-kissed, tousled hair:
Spring's greatest joy beyond a doubt
Is when it brings the children out.
-Edgar Guest