Thursday, August 10, 2017
A favorite memory of summer from my childhood
is of climbing up into a spread-armed maple tree
where none could see me hidden in the thickness of the leaves.
And in that coolness, privacy and peace, I would sit back
and read a book I had brought up into that tree with me.
An August never passes without that memory revisiting.
~~Rose Moore at firstname.lastname@example.org
Monday, August 7, 2017
|Fresh-Flower Bouquet by dtr-in-law Chris Moore from her gardens|
|Granddaughter, Co-ed Katie, adds a birthday hug to the day|
|OLDE ROSE BLOWING OUT THE CANDLES|