We park in a driveway and drive on a parkway.
The bandage was wound around the wound.
The farm was used to produce produce.
The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.
We must polish the Polish furniture.
He could lead if he would get the lead out.
The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.
Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.
When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.
I did not object to the object.
The insurance was invalid for the invalid.
There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.
They were not close to the door to close it.
The buck does funny things when the does are present.
A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.
To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.
The wind was too strong to wind the sail.
Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.
I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.
How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?
And if the foregoing hasn’t messed UP your mind, consider the following:
There is a two-letter word that perhaps has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that is ‘UP.’ It’s easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP? At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP and why are the officers UP for election? Why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report? We call UP our friends. We use it to brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver. We warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and some guys fix UP the old car. At other times the little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing, but to be dressed UP is special. A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP. We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night. We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP!
Take a second in your life to look at life.
We’re talking about a time long long ago,
Happy places, happy faces, things went slow.
Folks strolling along down the sidewalk,
Aways 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, their 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,
And on the porch we would laugh and play all day.
by Eileen clark
From My Porch After the end of a long hot day At the end of my rope - with nerves all frayed I sat on the porch…to rest a spell As the sun slipped… slowly behind the hill Calmed…by the lingering…after glow I watched…the summer night unfold Crimson streaks…on a sky of blue Melted…in a thousand…different hues Got lost…in the dark…without the light Leaving…just their shadows…in the night And in fields…of clover…across the way The crickets…began…their serenade As fireflies danced…with sheer delight Glowing…in love…with this summer night And there…ahead…at the end of the road Above the bridge…where the river flows It rose - like magic - before my eyes An orange moon… so big…it filled the sky
Poem by ~Elaine George
Painting by ~ Eileen Clark ( Watercolor)
The Best of Elaine George
The afternoon is bright,
with spring in the air,
a mild March afternoon,
with the breath of April stirring,
I am alone in the quiet patio
looking for some old untried illusion –
some shadow on the whiteness of the wall
some memory asleep
on the stone rim of the fountain,
perhaps in the air
the light swish of some trailing gown.
The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You’re one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you’re two months back in the middle of March.
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.