Is There Anyone Out There In Need Of Some Rain ??

Hello Dear World........

How are you first of all ? Let me begin by saying that all morning and all afternoon and all night it rained and rained and rained and rained and rained........You get the hint. I came upon a poem which I thought I would share with you titled "Little Wind" by a writer named Kate Greenaway. Here it is :

Little Wind

Little wind, blow on the hill-top,

Little wind, blow down the plain;

Little wind, blow up the sunshine,

Little wind, blow off the rain.

- Kate Greenaway

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While it rained it also turned out to be quite cold which lead me to another poem titled " What No Snow ? " by another writer named Bill Boyle. Here is the poem :

What No Snow ?

Why doesn't it snow ?

It's winter, isn't it ?

Then it's supposed to snow.

How else can you make snowmen,

Or fight each other with snowballs,

And slide down on sledges ?

 

It's not fair, is it ?

Soon it will be summer,

Than it'll just rain and rain for months.

Can't anyone tell me,

WHY DOESN'T IT SNOW ?

-Bill Boyle

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While I was catching up on my reading I came upon some great journals that you might want to check out dear world. Here are a few that will get you reading........

Wanderer --------> http://journals.aol.com/bgilmore725/Wanderer/

First Digital Photos ---------> http://journals.aol.com/tc01hm/FirstDigitalPhotos/

Jeannette's Jottings ---------> http://journals.aol.co.uk/jeanno43/JeannettesJottings/

Stop by and say hello to these wonderful and interesting writers. You might end up with some new friends along the way. There is another journal written by a wonderful person named Meg who has a journal titled "Friendship, Loyalty and Love" I will share her journal link with you next time. Her journal is also quite amazing............

Anyway..........Before I go. I thought I would share another poem with you titled "Mother Nature" by Emily Dickinson.

Mother Nature

Nature, the gentlest mother,

Impatient of no child,

The feeblest or the waywardest,

Her admonition mild

 

In forest and the hill

By traveller is heard,

Restraining rampant squirrel

Or too impetuous bird.

 

How fair her conversation,

A summer afternoon, -

Her household, her assembly;

And when the sun goes down

 

Her voice among the aisles

Incites the timid prayer

Of the minutest cricket,

The most unworthy flower.

 

When all the children sleep

She turns as long away

As will suffice to light her lamps;

Then, bending from the sky

 

With infinite affection

And infiniter care,

Her golden finger on her lip,

Wills silence everywhere.

-------------Emily Dickinson

Good night dear world.......Sleep Well.