Welcome Reader:

Whether you've just now tuned in to my life, or have been keeping up with my inner thoughts for quite some time now,
I welcome you.

Though you may or may not be entertained by my thoughts, it is for MYSELF that I pen a blog.

As a writer, I enjoy expressing myself.
When I write long romance novels, I am inside my head so much, I forget to focus on reality.

By writing once and a while on my blog, when the mood hits me, I have the freedom to come and go.
To pull up a chair and order lemonade or an ice cream sundae.
To either gobble it down, or eat it ever so slowly...

...until it melts into a concoction that resembles mushy milk.

Pull up a chair! Have a read. I hope you enjoy it.
I do...and that's what really matters.







Monday, September 7, 2009

Apple Tart or Sweet

From little seeds grew our apple trees.
They were my husband's first, but now they also belong to me.
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Year after year we prune, spray, and wait for blossoms to bloom.
Tiny apples grow green while drinking in summer's rain.
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Multi-colored birds chirp and sing amid the branches.
Squirrels and chipmunks run and play all day, sleep at night.
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The winds of fall bring cooler air and apples turning red.
So now the call goes out to family and friends from near and far.
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Come share the bounty, make pies with aromas that make you drool.
Come now for tart apples, but for sweetness, wait a week or two!
 
Note: First come first served
and if we're not home,
the apple picker leans up against the Mac tree.
 
 
 
 

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