#love

LITTLE PIECES OF BREAD

When her Grandma was alive sometimes they’d sit in her backyard without saying a word.

They’d throw little pieces of bread upon the ground and silently feed the birds.

 

“Sometimes I get lonely.” Grandma would tell her in a sad and mournful tone.

“But as long as birds are visiting, I never feel alone.”

 

There were days they lost count of how many birds there were…

It’s just one of the wonderful memories her Grandma bequeathed to her.

 

She remembered this heading to the car for Grandma’s funeral

“Wait…I’ll only be a minute!” she said

Then she ran back into the house and came out with a loaf of bread.

 

At the cemetery when the service was completed…she gave Grandma a goodbye wave

then gently sprinkled little pieces of bread quietly upon her grave.

 

“What are you doing?” her mother whispered as her last little pieces were thrown…

 

“It’s to remind the birds where grandma is.” she said, “so she’ll never be alone.”


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LOVE OF MY LIFE

His vows were sweet and simple

when they became man and wife…

“I will cherish you forever,” he said

“for you are the love of my life.”



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WORDS OF LOVE

When you look around the world and think we’re in a terrible state

when you start believing love is losing in the battle between love and hate…

 

here’s a little observation to help to ease your doubt…

just a little something to ruminate about…

 

‘I love you’ are the first words we hear the instant we are born

the moment we open up our eyes…

and ‘I love you’ are also the last words we hear 

the moment before we die?

 

Think about it…if ‘I love you’ are the first words spoken as we enter

and before our final scene

could there be any doubt that ‘I love you’

fills up many moments in between?

 

So the next time you look around the world and think…

we’re in a terrible state…

remember the first and last words spoken to us…

are words of love…

 

not hate.


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NOTHING EVER WILL

As she noticed her reflection in the mirror…she was frightened and appalled

and as she took a closer look..her tears began to fall.

 

She had trouble recognizing the person reflected over there

Cancer had made her thin and frail…Cancer had taken her hair.

 

Her husband noticed her standing there…And said, “I saw you from afar

and I just had to come and tell you how beautiful you are.”

 

She leaned back into his arms saying, “I’m not as beautiful I fear…

as when you fell in love with me…but, still, it’s nice to hear.”

 

“It’s true you’re not as beautiful.” he said…

”But that’s because you’ve found a way

in all the years I’ve known you…to be more beautiful every day.

 

It’s why when I look at you when we awaken…it’s easy for me to say

you are more beautiful this morning than you were yesterday.

 

Then he held her tightly in his arm…and whispered in her ear

words that eased her sadness…words that mollified her fears…

 

“In all the years I’ve known you…I’ve admired from afar

how warm and kind and wonderful…how beautiful you are…”

 

“Nothing can take from you what has taken you a lifetime to instill…

nothing can steal your beauty…

 

nothing ever will.”


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I WILL MISS YOU MORE

It was their special way to say goodnight…he’s not sure when it started

or how they began to use it whenever they departed…

 

When he was young at bedtime she’d lean down and kiss his forehead…

as she had done the night before

“I will miss you while I’m sleeping.” he’d say

then she would whisper… “But I will miss you more”.

 

It’s funny how a little thing like that…a little thing you hear or see

when done with so much love…imprints in your memory.

 

Even as a teenager when sons and mothers sometimes fight

all would be forgotten when she came to say goodnight

 

When she leaned down to kiss his forehead…

as she had done the night before

When he said, “I will miss you while I’m sleeping.”

and she’d whisper… “But I will miss you more.”

 

Even when he grew up and left the house… even the older he became

after every visit together their message was the same:

 

She would kiss him on his forehead as they stood by her front door

“I will miss you while I am away.” he’d say.

Then she would whisper… “But I will miss you more.”

 

Then came the day no parent and child wants…

a day with tears filling up his eyes

when he sat beside her on her bed…

when he came to say goodbye…

 

He took her frail hand in his and they sat in silence for a while.

She opened her eyes and for a moment between them passed a smile…

 

Then he leaned over and kissed her forehead…

as she had done so many times before….

“I will miss you while I’m sleeping.” she said

 

and he whispered… “But I will miss you more.”


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NO NUKES...MORE UKES

Yesterday was World Ukulele Day…you heard me right…it’s not a fluke

Yesterday people all around the world came together…to celebrate the uke.

 

They were playing in the park in our town so we had to check it out…

We wanted to learn a little more and see what the fuss was all about.

 

The ukulele originated in Hawaii…that state surrounded by the sea…

and translated roughly from Hawaiian…ukulele means ‘jumping flea’.

 

It’s possible the name comes from how fast the fingers seem to jump around when people play it

but whatever the reason the word ukulele makes you smile when you say it.

 

On stage a group of people picked up their ukuleles

and played familiar songs

as people who brought their own ukes accompanied them

while the rest of us sang along…

 

In a world that is so divided so filled with distrust and animosity

people coming together to play and sing was a beautiful sight to see.

 

Perhaps that is the point of World Ukulele Day…

to bring people together no matter their religion, sexuality or race….

for no other earthly reason that to put a smile on their face.

 

To show the world through a 4 stringed instrument and some old familiar songs

that we can come together…

that we can get along.

 

Which leads me to wonder… 

What if there is a way?

What if a world with less hate and animosity

 

begins with more ukulele days.


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HE KNEW

He knew his love would last a lifetime…

He knew she was…the one

when her voice reminded him of moonlight

 

and her smile of the sun


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THAT'S WHAT HIPPIES DO

They grew up in the ’60’s…and as their lives unfurled

They discovered they were righteous…laid back…two groovy kind of girls.

 

They had long hair…down to their shoulders…some people thought them wild

They were hippies…free spirits…unconventional…each one a flower child.

 

They wore their clothing tie-dyed in colors bold and bright

When they made the scene…they were a gas, a blast…so out of sight!

 

They would have gone to Woodstock but their parents didn’t approve

They believed in peace and love and they were always on the move…

 

But time has a way of moving too… and though they’re not sure how

Those two hippies of the ‘60s…are in their 60’s now.

 

Yet, through the years…through jobs and family

though their lives have rearranged….

they stayed as cool as they were back then

and their values haven’t changed….

 

They were sculpted by their past and no matter how old they grow

There is a universal truth…that they…as hippies…know….

 

Although there are certain parts of life over which they have no control….

They remain free spirits in their hearts and hippies in her soul.

 

They oppose violence…

They oppose hate and war…

Their symbol is the dove

They strive for a world of peace

They pursue a world of love.

 

So here’s to all the old hippies out there….

and any younger hippies too…

Let’s keep trying to make the world a better place…

 

because that’s what hippies do.


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BEFORE HER

How did he ever live before her?…he wondered

and then

with his second thought

he realized the answer…

before her…

 

he did not.


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