Friday, March 21, 2014

Tomorrow - a poem by Edgar Guest


He was going to be all that a mortal should be –
Tomorrow.
No one should be kinder or braver than he –
Tomorrow.
A friend who was troubled and weary he knew,
Who'd be glad of a lift and who needed it, too;
On him he would call and see what he could do –
Tomorrow.

Each morning he stacked up the letters he'd write –
Tomorrow.
And thought of the folks he would fill with delight –
Tomorrow.
It was too bad, indeed, he was busy today,
And hadn't a minute to stop on his way;
More time he would have to give others, he'd say –
Tomorrow.

The greatest of workers this man would have been –
Tomorrow.
The world would have known him, had he ever seen –
Tomorrow.
But the fact is he died and he faded from view,
And all that he left here when living was through
Was a mountain of things he intended to do –
Tomorrow.

 ~~~~~~
Let's not put off till 'tomorrow' what could and should be done today. "Tomorrow" may never come.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

White Picket Fence

For some reason I was thinking about the fictional, oft romanticized image of the white picket fence today. Why is this such a peaceful thing? All I see is hard work and money. Not only do they cost a lot, but you have to maintain them. If it's wood, you'll have to occasionally scrape and repaint (more money). Repairs will be needed as time goes by. If it's synthetic, you'll have to wash it ... especially if you live in a climate prone to growing moss and/or mold. The north side is the worse by far. I guess this could happen with wood too.

No thanks.