Thanksgiving Pictures, Comments, Images, Graphics




Happy Halloween – Poem

What Creepy Doings are with us Tonight? A Bump or a Bang – a Scratch or a Bite!

Delicious darkness embraces this night! Witches and Kittens grin with delight! Ghostly waltzes send out such a freight!

Shadows of flickering candles on walls; their dance quickly rises, then suddenly falls.

Transforming shapes at the flick of a wick! Or are these forms a Spiritual Trick?

Pumpkins displayed in unrivaled boasts. Forewarning signs hang loosely on posts!

Demonic stars pierce night’s purple veil, dripping like diamonds over hill and dale.

Creepy, foreboding shadows glide past, on tree trunks and fences their silhouettes cast.

Oh my! What was That? Are things what the seem? I could’ve sworn I just heard a Scream!

Ghostly Boys in Mom’s finest sheets! Dancing with Fairies is Oh Such a Treat!

Cackling Witches shatter the night on mythical broomsticks, they ready for flight.

Ghastly monsters with hatchets creep by. Bats are soaring ever so high!

Masks of Plastic and Hairy, Fiendish and Scary!

Prickling of Ears and Twitching of whiskers, while tales of headless horsemen are told in low whispers!

Devilry sweeps through this night! Sharp and prickling like a watchman’s light!

The air is abounding with chatters and giggles, with added tones of snickers and sniggles.

Happy little goblins dig deep in their sacks, for much needed yummies and delicate snacks!

Little Beasts with treats, tired and worn, return to their homes before dawn is born!

Oh What a Bewitching… Mysterious Eve!

So Many Oddities! I Cannot Conceive!

Puppies in Hats! Bows on Black Cats!

What Could This Mean!

Oh Yes! Of Course! It’s Halloween!!







Homage to Alamo: Remember the Alamo

There is no doubt I am a Texan! The Alamo is a huge part of our history here in Texas. I do strongly believe the Alamo should always be remembered and honored. I travel to San Antonio once a year to pay homage and remember those 185 heroes who gave their lives for Texas Independence. I will be setting out to that special mission in a few weeks – it’s time. I don’t really do the tours anymore,  I just stop by in the quiet of the evening and leave my prayers of thanks.

I ask my fellow Texans to join me –  stop by – let them know  – you will never forget The Alamo!

In Memory of Marty Robbins!












Arch Entry to Courtyard

Poem: Faded Friends

I ran into a friend from years gone by, reminding me of time’s fissures ever so wide and deep. Memories of two children who once clung together in giggles and make believe, that now seem less visible like giant panther paws of fog.

Time alters more than shells that carry us onward through our lives, it shifts the very foot prints patterned within our passions and desires.

Ever changing, ever molding from our long journeys, leaving once kindred friends wondering if that time was just a dream and we had never met.

How many clouds have past by through these years? How many times have seasons changed and loved ones have come and gone, leaving distant memories like faded introspections.

We have followed our separate paths, obstacles now cloud those many years ago, yet there is a faint bond that lives on.

Good times lying on our backs in cool green grass, imagining fantastic shapes clouds had drawn; believing childhood would never end.

Summer times of skipping rope and climbing trees to reach the highest pinnacle , that was our foremost aspiration.  Cool lemonade and dirty mud pies, playing hide-and-seek in deep, lush woods with the distant sound of  parents calling us home.

With reflections of once upon a time and bittersweet smiles, we say goodbye.  A last goodbye, I fear, that tugs at my very soul for want of one more moment back in an era of absolute innocence.

It’s good to think back on those so distant days within our childhood.  Somewhere in the tall trees and cool lemonade something started sculpting our lives.  Something remains locked within our hearts and minds that will always leave a silent bond, though quite distant now — we do know they were not imagined dreams,  we were kindred friends.

Possibly those fond  memories, like a warm blanket, will comfort us in years to come.

Poem for Dusk: Heralding in the Night

Cool spring breezes whisper softly, gently bending pedals and leaves.

Lids of daylight slowly lower, evoking shades of dusky gray and ancient rose

Tiny silver sparks emerge in subtle formation announcing night’s arrival

Fat little birds nestle into their nests after day’s soaring  journeys

Clouds reaching beyond their form, dissipating in thin shades of glowing cerise and bounteous charcoals.

Shrouded silence engulfs hill and vale, heralding all to their needed rest.

Night advances on ebon steed – his billowing cape swallowing up the last moment of light.

Soon, very soon will awaken the other world of wings and magic..

The flicker of tiny spirits appear, believed imagined or embedded in dreams.

Was that a night creature…. or was that a giggle?


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