The roses bloom well this year. So I cut the golden bounty and bring it to my mantlepiece, beside the photos there. A glorious burst of scent and memories. I arranged them in a bowl Just as mother had, so long ago. I touched each thorn gently For they promised pain amidst the beauty. Then memories came. I beheld the bowl on the mantle, by the wall And wept as yellow petals fall Like happier days long past. Yes roses weep I see their tears When yellow petals fall.
Let this coming of age story of a boy named Bean take you back to a simple time. Set in a small southern town in the 1960's, encircled by a river and gleaming white cotton fields.
It's almost Christmas. Lynn Basil is writing her last book about a secret entrance into the magical doll land of Sha Bebe that she loves so much. Bagannos have taken over the world! Lynn finally meets her dolls in real life. Can she write in a Secret
It's almost Christmas. Lynn Basil is writing her last book about a secret entrance into the magical doll land of Sha Bebe that she loves so much. Bagannos have taken over the world! Lynn finally meets her dolls in real life. Can she write in a Secret
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Regis
I must welcome you to Our Den
For I am hoping on continuosly reading
your extraodirnary work
Love & peace be with you
William
(((HUGS))) and much love, your new friend in America, Karen Lynn in Texas. :D
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Roses, my favortes flower, hold so much more meaning with your words.
Thank you--RaeLynn