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… More
Fear in The Moonlight

The night is very dark with a slight summer
breeze,
A shimmer of moon peeking through the branches of trees.
I hear another’s footsteps in the distance from behind,
Hopefully the owner is a person that’s very kind.
As I continue to walk further, a pounding in my heart,
The moon gets brighter as the clouds start to part.
I turn around as I hear the sound at a faster pace,
Gleefully I shout as the moon lights up my brothers face.
Eileen 2015
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
by Robert Frost
The Cat in The Mist

The evening sky’s darken, falling slowly to the ground,
Soft mist is filling the air with a whispering sound.
A dim light from a lantern exposes something down below,
It’s a sleek black cat with a shiny coat moving very slow.
I’ve never seen the like of it, a smooth sophisticated stroll,
Gazing upon him I question myself , is he’s tired hungry or cold
I watch this silent creature move down the cool wet street,
I wonder if there is a home, a someone waiting for him to greet.
Perhaps he lives in the city with a pack of other cats,
Or possibly he’s a loner and stays near the railroad tracts.
If I knew for certain that this little guy lived all alone,
There would be no hesitation for me to take him home.
by Eileen
My Calico Cat
I Have a calico Cat very quiet and shy.
He disappears when friends stop by.
They tease and ask, does he meow or cry,
Are we we ever see this little guy?
His toys are scattered around on the floor.
I have padding on every corner and door
When you’re here in his presence,
Helpful things you should know.
Sit very still, be calm and pleasant,
His instincts tell if you’re friend or foe.
He’ll grab at your foot from under the couch,
Then grab the other before you say ouch!
Time has passed and my cat’s doing well,
He now wears a collar with a little bell.
So when he hides he’s not so hard to find,
Such a blessing cause he hides all the time.
I don’t let him out to play in the sun,
That’s hard for I know he would have fun.
He bumps into the chair slams into the wall,
Doesn’t know which way to go when I call.
He can be a handful but I don’t mind,
My precious little calico cat is blind.
by EileenMarie Sept. 2019
Image Found on Pinterest
The Old Barn
Just down the road around the bend,
Stands an old empty barn nearing the end.
It has sheltered no animals for many years,
No dairy cows, no horses, no sheep, no steers.
*
The neigh of a horse the low of a cow,
Those sounds have been absent for some time now.
There was a time when the loft was full of hay,
And the resounding echoes of children at play.
*
At one time the paint was a bold shade of red,
Gradually faded by weather and the sun overhead.
The doors swing in the wind, the hinges are loose,
Window’s and siding have taken much abuse.
*
The fork, rope and pulleys lifted hay to the mow,
A task that always brought sweat to the brow.
But those good days are gone forever it seems,
And that old barn now stands with sagging beams.
*
It is now home…
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The Sounds of Fall

A Happy Time For Cows

To make no more of a wall than an open gate,
And think no more of wall-builders than fools.
Her face is flecked with pomace and she drools
A cider syrup. Having tasted fruit,
She scorns a pasture withering to the root.
She runs from tree to tree where lie and sweeten.
The windfalls spiked with stubble and worm-eaten.
She leaves them bitten when she has to fly.
She bellows on a knoll against the sky.
Her udder shrivels and the milk goes dry
The Old Pantry’s


Pumpkin Spice Latte’
Pumpkin Spice Latte’
Coming Soon, Pumpkin Wine Recipes
It’s The Little Things
Did any of you do this ? Every fall my mom would have my brothers and I get a paper bag and go for a walk in the woods and collect colored leaves. When we got them home we would pick out the very best leaves, perfect shape and colors counted. We would then place them on a sheet of wax paper placing another sheet on the top and then go over it with a sightly warm iron. Mom would tape them to the glass on our windows. It reminded me of stained glass windows when the sun shown directly on the glass, awesome. The nice thing was that they lasted for a long time right through the winter if you like. It’s such a little thing but I loved the time we spent doing this and I did the same with my children on down to my grandchildren and…
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