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GypsyDreamz
GypsyDreamz
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Journal for GypsyDreamzJournal for GypsyDreamz
Sep
12
Sad



Lady Liberty Cried

Another bright September day
Another sun-filled sky
She stands her ground with endless pride
As planes above her fly
She looks upon her children
Her loved ones dear to heart
As they go through their normal chores
Some only just to start
But soon the peace was shattered
As men so filled with hate
Soon turned their rage to senseless acts
To meet their horrid fate
First one and then another hit
Impossible to seem
Two other impacts hit elsewhere
As in a horrid dream
Tho some did fight the evil
As heroes they had died
And as the proud twins met their fall
The Lady Liberty cried






It\'s 14 years today that and We Will Never Forget!


A friend posted this beautiful poem on my page.
I found it so touching that I felt I never wanted
to lose it in my comments over time.
The best place to keep it is here.

Thank you my friend.
Gail



Sep
10
Wink



Tell me one of your tells and I\'ll tell you one of mine.
When you know you can\'t be beaten, do you send out a sign?
When you lie do you believe that no one will suspect?
Do you have a habit that your opponents can detect?

Do you pause without a cause… Strategic hesitation?
Do you blink or give a wink… A facial reflexation?
Do you glare and pull your hair, when you\'re in consternation?
Make a sneer and scratch your ear, without consideration?

Tell me one of your tells and I\'ll tell you one of mine.
When the Flop has missed your hand, do you tend to resign?
When the one you\'re dreaming of descends upon the River,
Are you solid as a rock, or do you start to quiver?

Do you shake, begin to quake, when under observation?
Do you stutter and, or mutter a vocal incantation?
Do you shout and dance about as if in celebration?
Laugh out loud when you are proud… a form of exaltation?

Tell me one of your tells and I\'ll tell you one of mine.
When your game has come apart, do you step out of line?
Are you the type to hem and haw when you intend to raise?
When you lay your cards down, do you go into a daze?

Do you flinch or move an inch, to give an indication?
Do you place your hands to face when on a calculation?
Do you grin and wag your chin, in hope of obfuscation?
Hold your breath and feign your death, caught in a situation?

If it\'s my aim to win at this game, it will take some dedication.
If I can\'t read you, how can I expect remuneration?
Can I discern or hope to learn much from your face of stone?
If I can\'t tell what your tells are...how can I tell my own?
If I can\'t tell what your tells are...how can I tell my own?



(This isn\'t my own creation but it\'s one I like.)
Dec
5
Neutral




A Winter Rose

So fragile and fair
It\'s grace and beauty
Beyond compare

Standing strong
Against the cold winter winds
Bending.........
Never breaking
Never giving in.

You remind me so
Of that winter rose
Bending.......
Just a little as those cold winds blow

And like that rose
I shall cut you free
And keep you warm and safe with me

Keep you safe
Within my heart
Until those winter storm clouds part





Dec
5
Happy







Mother Natures\' Winter

Winter’s cold is Mother Nature’s way
Of saying, lie with me now, lay your head on my breast
It’s snow, a blanket under which to lay
Neath a crystal cover, enjoying winter\'s cold caress

Frost rimed windows … Mother Nature’s art
Icy abstractions painted with frosty finesse
Crystalline concoctions that form only a part
Of Mother Natures wonderful winter largesse

Ice coated limbs of slope shouldered trees
droop drowsily down as if fallen asleep
Unable to sway in winter’s frigid breeze
Appear as white mounds, when the snow drifts deep

The stillness one hears on cold winter nights
Broken by the sudden crack of ice laden boughs
The ethereal essence of undulating northern lights
Headlights in the sky for Nature’s snowplows

All is withdrawn, in awe of Nature’s might
Willingly waiting, deep neath frozen ground
Safely sequestered, from winter’s cruel bite
In warm tunnels and burrows, til spring comes around

Mother Nature invites winter into her domain
Cohabits with coldness, wantonly sleeps with Jack frost
Yet finds cold winter quickly falls to disdain
Invites in the spring…and tells winter to get lost

Mother Nature is fickle lady…and she is also the boss!


Sep
18
Happy





When the Rose is Faded

When the rose is faded,
Memory may still dwell on
Her beauty shadowed,
And the sweet smell gone.

That vanishing loveliness,
That burdening breath,
No bond of life hath then,
Nor grief of death.

\'Tis the immortal thought
Whose passion still
Makes the changing
The unchangeable.

Oh, thus thy beauty,
Loveliest on earth to me,
Dark with no sorrow, shines
And burns, with thee.



by Walter de la Mare



Sep
11
Sad







♥For the husband who told his wife I love you one last time before his plane went down in a field, for the wife who stopped in the stairs to call her husband to say I will love you forever, for the mothers and fathers who kissed their kids goodbye the morning they died,for the policemen who rushed in with the firemen to help get others out only to die themselves, for the soldiers who fought back and lost their lives. Today, tomorrow, ten years from now, we will always remember ♥
Sep
3
Wink






Autumn Days.

Yellow, mellow, ripened days,
Sheltered in a golden coating;
O\'er the dreamy, listless haze,
White and dainty cloudlets floating;
Winking at the blushing trees,
And the sombre, furrowed fallow;
Smiling at the airy ease,
Of the southward flying swallow
Sweet and smiling are thy ways,
Beauteous, golden Autumn days.

By: Will Carleton
Jul
26
Happy



(Come give Jeannie one last kiss)
The moon hid its light and the midnight was still
And they had their last quarrel on top of the hill
And she said to him please as they stood in the mist
If we must part this way come give Jeannie one last kiss
But in anger he turned with no kiss and no care
There she stood on the cliff with the wind in her hair
The next mornin' they learned that his Jeannie was dead
Girl climbin' and slipped all the newspapers said
Then night after night when the moon hides its light the wind's in the mist
Seem to cry out his name and call him again come give Jeannie one last kiss
Years have gone by and they talk of him still
And the voice that was callin' from the top of the hill
And they tell of the night that he ran from his door
How he ran toward the cliff then was heard from no more
Now night after night when the moon hides its light and the wind's in the mist
All the old people swear that he's out there somewhere
To give Jeannie one last kiss come give Jeannie one last kiss
Come give Jeannie one last kiss

By: Bobby Bare
















Jul
8
Happy


"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.



By: Emily Dickinson.....

May
25
Wink



Oh Stewball was a racehorse, and I wish he were mine.
He never drank water, he always drank wine.

His bridle was silver, his mane it was gold.
And the worth of his saddle has never been told.

Oh the fairgrounds were crowded, and Stewball was there
But the betting was heavy on the bay and the mare.

And a-way up yonder, ahead of them all,
Came a-prancin' and a-dancin' my noble Stewball.

I bet on the grey mare, I bet on the bay
If I'd have bet on ol' Stewball, I'd be a free man today.

Oh the hoot owl, she hollers, and the turtle dove moans.
I'm a poor boy in trouble, I'm a long way from home.

Oh Stewball was a racehorse, and I wish he were mine.
He never drank water,he always drank wine.


An oldie by Peter Paul and Mary




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