Hello again.
It's been really busy around here lately. Thing1 came home from summer break, and Saturday we went to the movies. The other day I wanted to make a book for my Grandpa, and I've made two so far. It's really fun! Anyway, that's all for now!
In Christ,
Molly
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
A note from Orion Wittifrid
Dear Chaps and Chapesses.
Once again it is me, Orion Wittifrid. It has been very busy around here as of late. I don't have time to write much, but I simply must tell you of an exciting detail of my said life. My owner, Molly, has found in the basement a relic of a dog they once had. It is a black wire cage, quite roomy actually. Lately she has been taking me outside in it! Quite exciting if I do say so myself.
Unfortunately I must wait until she has finished her work, although I try to get her going in the right direction by yelling insults at the door that stands in the way. Anyway, Ta ta for now!
Orion Wittifrid
Saturday, June 14, 2008
The Day
The day dawns.
The hot air is still,
The hint of a breeze.
The sun climbs higher,
In it's travels it shines down.
The breeze picks up,
Now it is a stream of air,
Weaving through the day.
It blows my hair into my face.
Dark clouds gather.
Roiling, swarming, gathering.
The wind is a mighty river now,
blowing over the hot, dry land.
The land is parched.
The wind picks up dust from the ground.
The dark clouds burst,
Torrents of icy water fall from the sky.
Now there really is a river in the air.
The wind dies down,
The dark clouds roll away,
Revealing a blue sky.
Evening comes,
dusk fills the air as the sun dies.
The day sets.
The hot air is still,
The hint of a breeze.
The sun climbs higher,
In it's travels it shines down.
The breeze picks up,
Now it is a stream of air,
Weaving through the day.
It blows my hair into my face.
Dark clouds gather.
Roiling, swarming, gathering.
The wind is a mighty river now,
blowing over the hot, dry land.
The land is parched.
The wind picks up dust from the ground.
The dark clouds burst,
Torrents of icy water fall from the sky.
Now there really is a river in the air.
The wind dies down,
The dark clouds roll away,
Revealing a blue sky.
Evening comes,
dusk fills the air as the sun dies.
The day sets.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Sunset
Sitting on the front porch,
The sky is clear outside,
The day is drawing to a close,
It's almost evening-tide.
The sun is going down,
A ball of fire all of red,
As it sets behind the mountains,
We all head in to bed.
The birds are singing sweetly,
As the day does die,
It seems that to the listening ear,
The world has breathed good-bye.
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