Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Glitz Designs {Anything Goes} Blog Hop & Giveaway


Welcome to  Glitz Design July "Anything Goes" Blog Hop! This month we are featuring anything and everything Glitz. With so many wonderful papers and embellishments, it's another chance to put some of these fabulous products to work.

As always, leave one comment here and one on each of the stops along the blog hop for a chance to win a Glitz prize pack! The winner will be chosen at random from one of the blogs on Sunday (07.04.13), and will be posted on the Glitz Blog.
 
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"Poet Laureate" Supplies:
Glitz Designs "Color Me Happy" papers: Hearts, Bits & Pieces
Glitz Designs "Color Me Happy" 8x8 Paper Pad
Glitz Designs "Color Me Happy" 6x6 Paper Pad
Glitz Designs "Uncharted Waters" 6x6 Paper Pad
Glitz Designs "Color Me Happy" Cardstock Sticker Titles
Glitz Designs "Color Me Happy" Washi Tape - Stripe
Glitz Designs "Color Me Happy" Giant Rhinestones
Glitz Designs "Color Me Happy" Teeny Alpha - Rainbow
other: doilies


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Don't forget to leave only one comment per blog for a chance to win the Glitz Prize Pack. The winner will be posted on the Glitz Blog Sunday afternoon. Good luck!

Official Blog Hop order:

Jaime Warren – http://jaimewarren.typepad.com/
Karine Cazenave – http://karinecazenave.typepad.com/
Karola Witczak – http://www.karolakraftuje.blogspot.com/
Lea Lawson – http://leascupcakesandsunshine.blogspot.com/
Leica Forrest - http://www.10-4livingoutloud.typepad.com/
Lisa Andrews – http://lisaandrews.blogspot.com/
Magda Mizera – http://www.magdamizera.blogspot.com/
Marie Ramirez - http://www.absosweetmarie.blogspot.com/
Mou Saha – http://collagecollagecollage.blogspot.com/
You Are Here--> Noel Culbertson – http://paperpassionpixels.blogspot.com/
Stephanie Bryan – http://www.stephaniemakes.blogspot.com/
Glitz Design Blog – http://glitzitnow.com/blog/

Thursday, February 21, 2013

grandpa

Yesterday our family spent the evening at St. James Cathedral in Seattle with my grandparents. My grandpa (my dad's dad) is getting baptized at the Easter Vigil in March. My grandpa is one of the most honorable, generous and kind people walking the planet today. He tenderly cared for my dad, and sat long hours in the hospital with us last year when Dad was sick. My dad would have loved to be with us as we walked with Grandpa to meet the bishop and sign his name in the Book of Life. I was overwhelmed with mixed emotions of joy and sorrow, thinking how overjoyed my dad would have been and how sad I was that he was not physically there with us. I am thankful for my family and each precious moment we have together. Taking hold of each day we live out the gift of everyday life.

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St. James Cathedral, Seattle
St. James Cathedral, Seattle

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Grandma & Grandpa with the girls

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my grandparents



“A Second Childhood.”

When all my days are ending
And I have no song to sing,
I think that I shall not be too old
To stare at everything;
As I stared once at a nursery door
Or a tall tree and a swing.

Wherein God’s ponderous mercy hangs
On all my sins and me,
Because He does not take away
The terror from the tree
And stones still shine along the road
That are and cannot be.

Men grow too old for love, my love,
Men grow too old for wine,
But I shall not grow too old to see
Unearthly daylight shine,
Changing my chamber’s dust to snow
Till I doubt if it be mine.

Behold, the crowning mercies melt,
The first surprises stay;
And in my dross is dropped a gift
For which I dare not pray:
That a man grow used to grief and joy
But not to night and day.

Men grow too old for love, my love,
Men grow too old for lies;
But I shall not grow too old to see
Enormous night arise,
A cloud that is larger than the world
And a monster made of eyes.

Nor am I worthy to unloose
The latchet of my shoe;
Or shake the dust from off my feet
Or the staff that bears me through
On ground that is too good to last,
Too solid to be true.

Men grow too old to woo, my love,
Men grow too old to wed;
But I shall not grow too old to see
Hung crazily overhead
Incredible rafters when I wake
And I find that I am not dead.

A thrill of thunder in my hair:
Though blackening clouds be plain,
Still I am stung and startled
By the first drop of the rain:
Romance and pride and passion pass
And these are what remain.

Strange crawling carpets of the grass,
Wide windows of the sky;
So in this perilous grace of God
With all my sins go I:
And things grow new though I grow old,
Though I grow old and die.”

― G.K. ChestertonThe Collected Poems of G. K. Chesterton

Monday, February 18, 2013

the poetry of life


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This afternoon while Emma rested and recovered from a stomach bug Torrey was doing a little writing on the iPad. I grabbed my camera for a quick shot of the day, and got a good laugh in the end. She had just written the first stanza when I started clicking away. I didn't read through the rest until I uploaded the photos, and got a good laugh when I got to the fourth stanza. I wonder who she was referring to there... 

She sent me a copy of the finished product, with permission to post it below. 

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Blank
by Torrey Culbertson

Have you ever sat, 
Down on your chair, 
With a pencil, some paper, and a pen?
Staring at the paper, thinking, 
And a blank piece of paper is staring back.

Your mind wanders,
Trying to think,
Of places, times, and feelings.
Thinking of things you have thunk,
And a blank piece of paper is thinking back.

Tapping your leg, 
Gnawing your pencil,
Thinking, pondering, wandering.
Waiting for some ideas to come,
And a blank piece of paper is waiting back.

You sit there, 
Thinking away, 
When something comes clicking, zooming, and snapping.
'Tis a camera, distracting away,
And a blank piece of paper is snapping back.

Sitting there thinking,
When all of a sudden,
You're smiling, chuckling, and eventually laughing.
About your poem about nothing,
And a blank piece of paper is smiling back.

Laughing, laughing away,
At the poem you had just written,
It was about thinking, pondering, with no outcome.
This poem just written,
And the blank piece of paper has written back.

Chewing your finger,
Thinking of more,
For the poem about nothing, blankness, no more.
But your poem is done, it is written,
And the once blank piece of paper is done.

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“The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits.” - G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy


“Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.” ― G.K. ChestertonAlarms and Discursions

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