Quotes about linda, page 4
Bride Of Brent
Unlike Lucia from far Lammermoor,
fair Linda, hailing from chill Chamounix,
excels when she’s preparing salmon or
deep-frying spuds and spinach that aren’t gammony.
She tried to keep the frog which wooing went
outside the net she guarded as a goalie
till she became the Bride of River Brent
and played the role of Princess Rowley-Powley.
The frog, he always used to say “Heigh-ho! ”
because he knew that he could never find a
more lovely princess once she’d kissed him so
he was more charmed than Chamounix by Linda.
6/5/06
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Early Spring
Early Spring flowers,
Poke their tiny colored heads up from the ground,
But winter has not yet decided to leave,
For another week or two,
Old man winter will stick around.
Covering up flower's tender petals,
With its white fluffy form or morning dew,
Putting once more all fast asleep,
Those flowers that tried to spring out through.
Time enough for all of that,
Spring is around the corner to come,
When it will burst forth many fields of greens,
And flowers that bask in the daylight of Springtimes sun.
By: Linda Winchell
poem by Linda Winchell
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Sweet As You Can Be
I know you’re not made out of bitter chocolate,
Or any sugar harvested from just any sugar cane,
For you’re sweeter than any confection I’ve tasted,
You’re sweetness must be flowing on through your veins.
You’re soft and juicy with a tinge of fruity tartness tasted,
When God made you my dear… no sweetness was spared,
Nothing at all was wasted.
I hope that you’ll come on down,
My Valentine’s candy conveyors’ line,
So that I can taste your sweetness,
And make YOU this years sweetest of Valentine.
By: Linda Winchell
poem by Linda Winchell
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A turtle dove weeps
I know that you are in a harmless war struggle with life to make us happy.
What is the use of being?
Sun and Moon in this vast sky
When I am asleep and you are awake?
Do you hear my distant cooing?
Anyway please do not run behind a mermaid's sad song.
I have the faith still as same as the unsaid love.
A turtle sees a light once in a blue moon.
My unmoved heart is waiting for my weather-bird and I pray day and night storms won't come into your world.
I never expect wealth and take care of your health.
My calendar's motion is very slow and I feel days are not moving like.
Though I am afar I see you in my faded dreams
And I know all of your whereabouts?
To the poetess Linda Haungs, Linda Ori & Dorothy Spooner.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Party Of One
How many do you need to have a party?
For it doesn’t require a crowd.
While the party of one may torment you
In your personal retirement….imprisoned cloud.
Friends moved away…
Layoffs…death…the familiar vanishes now from sight.
While you set alone with your thoughts
Day-in ….day out…through out the darkness of night.
It is now time to look around
Like the Psalmist…and take inventory of your life.
Such as Paul and Silas imprisoned
As they spent…. Their then felt abandoned life.
Our Redeemers’ constant presence is with us
He will carry you through all of your lonely days.
“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of your age.”
(Math.28-20)
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poem by Linda Winchell
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Whatever Happened To Benjamin?
Whatever happened to Benjamin
when he got bored with young Elaine?
He learned that it’s more fun to sin,
because sin tends to dull the pain,
and more thrills come from stolen kisses
than ones made by a marriage licit.
That’s why he left Elaine, and Mrs.
Robinson each night would visit.
Inspired by a performance of “The Graduate, ” which Linda and I first saw at the Curzon Cinema in London in 1968 but never really appreciated, despite its amazing soundtrack, until we saw it again about forty years later. Linda’s comment to this poem wsa “like plastic, ” which made me realize that the movie has a inclusion. At the beginning Mr. Robinson advises Benjamin to think about plastic, and he ends up marrying a piece of it.
6/3/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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The Weaving (Love Poem)
July was always the month for me. I cling
to July as if there are no doubts about
July. I feel human enough and animal enough
in July. I identify with those harvests flying
just above the rock walls, and then bursting
from themselves into the ground, into each other.
I'm talking about a plain garden with apricots
and lemons, where the cicadas play in the sage but never
show their watery guitars. And what is that harvest
all about? Their music is a harvest, an overflowing
harvest, whether those musicians and their instruments
are visible, or not.
I'm saying I have everything in July. I'm saying
that July is the birth of it. July
the spiders born in the camellias. July
the hummingbird and the olive―
and that's Linda Janakos' hummingbird
asleep in her lap, that's Linda Janakos' olive,
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poem by Doren Robbins
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The Way It Has 2 Be
'The Way It Has 2 Be'
By: Linda I. Weischedel
January 13 2010
Yes I know you are desperately in love with me,
yet thru those rose tinted glasses there is something you choose not to see,
when it comes to you and I as a couple we just could never be,
for many years my controlled soul has been trapped and suppressed
now it is finally set free.
I have deep feelings for you,
you are a good man one who is honest, up front and true,
yes and I do know there isn't anything you wouldn't do.
You are one of the most precious men I know,
I may not be IN love with you but my heart does love you ever so,
what scares me is how my feelings for you continue to grow,
for many reasons namely one I will have to let you go.
You and I know we could never have a real partnered life,
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poem by Linda I. Weischedel
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What's So Funny About It?
I am appalled to see the humor
In what some view… as funny these days.
Crashing old Grannies…and what swear word best fits our personalities
“God help us! ”…is what I say.
Seems like we’re reverting backward
To those days… when Roman’s viewed Christian deaths a sport.
With all of those hyper reality shows
It is now most of our minds retreat.
It’s become mankind’s… addiction of choice
Finding pleasure… in the bizarre and the unknown.
But what are we really saying and doing?
When it is our children…our actions are shown.
We claim to be so civilized?
But this is not what our God has made for me and you.
He wants us to follow Him faithfully
But we seem to have… better and more exciting things to do.
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poem by Linda Winchell
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Inventario Galante
Tus ojos me recuerdan
las noches de verano,
negras noches sin luna,
orilla al mar salado,
y el chispear de estrellas
del cielo negro y bajo.
Tus ojos me recuerdan
las noches de verano.
Y tu morena carne,
los trigos requemados,
y el suspirar de fuego
de los maduros campos.
Tu hermana es clara y débil
como los juncos lánguidos,
como los sauces tristes,
como los linos glaucos.
Tu hermana es un lucero
en el azul lejano…
Y es alba y aura fría
sobre llos pobres álamos
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poem by Antonio Machado
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