What fun for your next gathering of any sort.
Tea Bag Sugar Cookies
Leave a reply
” DA LEETLA BOY “
Da spreeng ees com’ but oh, da joy
Eet ees too late !
He was so cold, my leetla boy,
He no could wait.
I no can count how manny week,
How manny day, dat he ees seeck,
how manny night I seet an’ hold
da leetla hand dat was so cold.
He was so patience,oh, so sweet.
Eet hurts my throat to theenk of eet:
An all he evra ask ees w’en
Is gona com’ da spreeng agen.
Wan day, wan brighta sunny day,
He see across da alleyway,
Da leetla girl dat’s liven’ dere
Ees raise her window for da air,
And put outside a leetla pot
of w’at you call?-forget-me-not.
So smalla flower, so leetla theeng!
But steel eet mak’ hees hearta seeng.
“Oh, now, at las’,ees com’ da spreeng!
Da leetla plant ees glad for know,
Da sun ees com’ for mak’ eet grow.
So too, I am grow warm and strong.
So lika dat he seeng hees song.
But, ah, da night com’ down an den,
Da winter ees sneak back agen,
An in da alley, all da night
Eees fall da snow, so cold, so white.
An’ cover up da leetla pot
Of w’at you call ? for-get-me-not.
All night da leetla hand I hold.
Eees grow so cold, so cold, so cold !
Da spreeng ees come, but oh, da joy,
Eet ees too late!
He was so cold, my leetla boy,
He no could wait.
by THOMAS AUGUSTINE DALY
Born in Philadelphia, T. A. Daly lived his entire life in that area. His parents, John Anthony and Anne Victoria Duckett Daly established the first Catholic bookstore in Philadelphia. The Irish boy “Tom” attended public schools and Catholic boarding schools until age fourteen, when he enrolled in Villanova College where he began his literary efforts in college notebooks. Daly transferred to Fordham University but quit at the end of his sophomore year, claiming that he tried to major in baseball and cigarette smoking. Working as a grocery clerk, Daly acquired an accurate ear for immigrant dialects.
Soft Light
On winter nights my bedroom seemed gray and bland,
Then mom would turn on the lamp on the bedside stand.
I can’t explain how it happend with one small click,
So pink and so bright, it was like a magical trick.
Night after night soft pink roses would light up my room,
I felt warm and safe, one click and my roses would bloom.
by Eileen
Image ~ Pinterest
Country Pictures
Do you ever wish that you could travel back,
back to the country corners of your mind?
Memories of goodness and happiness may you never lack.
Are you longing in your heart for the good old days,
Walking through fields where the Jersey cows graze?
In your minds eye do you see the old farm?
Linger their a little longer, it can do you no harm.
Ladies sitting at the table in a bright yellow kitchen,
Coffee and apple pie aromas filling the room.
Men in the parlor, manly conversations they are pitching,
Children playing marbles and jacks while lots of candy they consume.
Oh these pictures can bring you back, in your mind they are instilled,
To a time when your pantry was stocked and baskets always filled,
Under your roof was an abundance of love and very little strife,
Where Gods embers of warmth and glory filled every part of your life.
.by Eileen
Rain
It’s pouring down rain, big puddles on the street,
School is out, at the bus stop the kids all meet.
The girls have red capes and carry umbrella’s,
Black boots and raincoats are worn by the fella’s.
At home I’ll change into my PJ’s made of silk,
Then Mom will give me some cookies and milk.
by Eileen C.
The Poems I Write
The Poems I Write ~ #1
The poems I write might make you ill
My empty head they do fill
Now and then I get one right
And I cherish it with all my might
Eileen ~ “2010”
The Poems I Write ~ #2
The poems I write might make you ill
I do not use a pen or quill
As you can see, I use a crayon
And very little of my brain.
Eileen ~ 2010
What is a Book?
A book is pages, pictures and words
A book is animals, people and birds
A book is stories of queens and kings
Poems and songs- so many things!
Curled in a corner where I can hide
With a book I can journey far and wide
Though it’s only paper from end to end
A book is a very special friend.
by Lora Duneta
The Front Porch
We’re talking about a time long long ago,
Happy places, happy faces, things went slow.
Folks strolling along down the sidewalk,
Always stopping with their neighbor to talk.
*
Listen to the children’s laughter in the air,
Up and down each street, they were everywhere.
The sound of a ball hitting hard off the bat,
The thump of roller skates over each crack.
*
The enjoyment of a front yard is a thing of the past,
Back then you’d hear father’s yelling, get off the grass!
Lemon aid stands and croquet sets ready to go,
Now the front yard is just something to mow.
*
Ah, but the very best was the front porch time we spent,
After work, after school, after dinner, there we went.
Parents sitting on porch swings and in the wicker chairs,
Children hanging on the rails and sitting on the stairs.
*
Young and old gathered on the porch summer nights,
Drinking ice tea while chatting about the days news.
Lingering on until aglow became all the street lights,
Walking back home feeling no better life could they choose.
*
The very best thing I remember about my porch,
On rainy days when we couldn’t go out to play.
Mother would make cookies and call our friends,
On the porch we would laugh and play till days end.
by Eileen ~ 2012
Time and Cookies
Time & Cookies
Time quickly goes away,
like cookies on a plate.
Maybe if we bake some more,
We can make time wait.
Steaming Orange Brandy & Coffee
- 1 orange peel (reserve a few thin strips for garnish if desired)
- 1 lemon peel
- 8 brown sugar cubes
- 1 cinnamon stick
- 6 whole cloves
- 1/4 cup brandy
- 1/4 cup Grand Marnier
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- Pinch of salt
- 2 1/4 cups hot brewed Cafe de Monde coffee
Image: https://www.1000gifs.com/2015/11/gs-imagenes-animadas-tazas-de-cafe.html
