Colors

The strumming of the strings,
the perfect melody.
You make the world sing with joy.
Sitting down on the soft
blades of grass.
Under the weeping willow
in the shade for comfort.
The quiet strumming of the strings,
carries through the fields of life.
Soon the wind picks up
a sweet voice.
That voice is you,
strumming and singing,
making perfect harmony.
The quiet strumming of the strings,
of you guitar.
I just made it.
It doesn’t have a name.
If you want please think of a name.
Thanks alot!!

I think that was beautiful. Such an uplifting poem!!
You could name it anything… I am not very good at thinking of titles, but I would definitely call it "The Melody of Myself." Keep writing poetry! You are really good!

• The Giant’s garden was beautiful, and children loved to play in it.
• The Giant, who was selfish, built a high wall round his lovely garden.
• Children did not enter the garden thereafter. Nor did Spring and
Summer till the Giant experienced a change of heart.
EVERY afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children
used to go and play in the Giant’s garden.
It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and
there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there
were twelve peach-trees that in the springtime broke out into delicate
blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The
birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to
stop their games in order to listen to them. “How happy we are
here!” they cried to each other.
One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend,
the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. When
he arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.
“What are you doing here?” he cried in a very gruff voice, and
the children ran away.“My own garden is my own garden,” said the Giant; “anyone can
understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.”
So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board:
TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED
He was a very selfish Giant.
The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play
on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones,
and they did not like it. They used to wander round the high walls
when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden
inside. “How happy we were there!” they said to each other.
Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little
blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it
was still winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were nochildren, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower
put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it
was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground
again, and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were
the Snow and the Frost. “Spring has forgotten this garden,” they
cried, “so we will live here all the year round.” The Snow covered up
the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the
trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them,
and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about
the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. ‘‘This is a delightful
spot,” he said, “we must ask Hail on a visit.” So the Hail came.
Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he
broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the
garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his
breath was like ice.“I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,” said
the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his
cold, white garden; “I hope there will be a change in the weather.”
But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave
golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant’s garden she gave
none. “He is too selfish,” she said. So it was always Winter there,
and the North Wind and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow
danced about through the trees.
One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard
some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought
it must be the King’s musicians passing by. It was really only a
little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since
he had heard a bird singing in his garden that it seemed to him to
be the most beautiful music in the world. Then the Hail stopped
dancing over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a
delicious perfume came to him through the open casement. “I
believe the Spring has come at last,” said the Giant; and he jumped
out of bed and looked out.• To celebrate the return of the children, trees covered themselves
with birds and blossoms.
• The Giant was delighted to see his friends back, especially a little
boy whom he loved dearly.
• The little boy soon disappeared only to return much later.
He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the
children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the
trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the
trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had
covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gentlyabove the children’s heads. The birds were flying about and
twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through
the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene. Only in one
corner it was still winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden,
and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could
not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all
round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still covered with frost
and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it.
“Climb up, little boy!” said the Tree, and it bent its branches down
as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny.
And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out. “How selfish I
have been!” he said; “now I know why the Spring would not come
here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I
will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children’s
playground for ever and ever.” He was really very sorry for what
he had done.So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly,
and went out into the garden. But when the children saw him they
were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became
winter again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so
full of tears that he did not see the Giant coming. And the Giant
stole up behind him and took him gently in his hands, and put
him up into the tree. And
the tree broke at once into
blossom, and the birds
came and sang on it, and
the little boy stretched out
his two arms and flung
them round the Giant’s
neck, and kissed him.
And the other children,
when they saw that the
Giant was not wicked any
longer, came runningback, and with them came the Spring. “It is your garden now, little
children,” said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked
down the wall. And when the people were going to market at twelve
o’clock they found the Giant playing with the children in the most
beautiful garden they had ever seen.
All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the
Giant to bid him good-bye.
“But where is your little companion?” he said; “the boy I put into
the tree?” The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.
“We don’t know,” answered the children. “He has gone away.”
“You must tell him to be sure and come tomorrow,” said the
Giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived,
and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.
Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and
played with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was
never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet
he longed for his little friend, and often spoke of him. “How I would
like to see him!” he used to say.
Years went by, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could
not play about anymore, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched
the children at their games and admired his garden. “I have manybeautiful flowers,” he said; “but the children are the most beautiful
flowers of all.”
One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was
dressing. He did not hate the winter now, for he knew that it was
merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.
Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder and looked and looked.
It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the
garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its
branches were golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and
underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.
Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden.
He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And
when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said,
“Who hath dared to wound thee?” For on the palms of the child’s
hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails were
on the little feet.
“Who hath dared to wound thee?” cried the Giant; “tell me, that
I may take my big sword and slay him.”“Nay!” answered the child: “but these are the wounds of Love.”
“Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him,
and he knelt before the little child.
And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, “You let me
play once in your garden; today you shall come with me to my
garden, which is paradise.”
And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the
Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.

It is quite extraordinary! Marvellous, well done!
What do we learn from this: That even giants can have sleepless nights as well. And giants are not immortal, as is sometimes wrongly suggested.

The song also plays in the movie Alive, when the survivors of the Andes plane crash are rescued.

The Verve - Bittersweet Symphony .. loved it heaps in the mid 90’s!
which trailer are you refering to though??

Auggghhhhhhhhhh…

not me they started here the day after Halloween. now I have love Christmas music but come on 2 months of it. one of my fan stations plays it now 27/7 so I will hear them in January. same goes with Christmas decorations. I love the lights etc but am so tired of seeing them by the time Christmas gets here.

Nightfall

Why do you fear?
Though this night is dark and cold,
tears flow without reserve,
You are not alone, though you may feel lonely.
Do you not know,
that I hold you in My hand?
I will bring the moon to you,
her silver light shall lay you down to rest.
The warm breeze will be My whisper,
of love unspoken and unspeakable.
I shall make your bed,
the grasses of the field.
And the flowers therein also,
I will make your pillow.
The river and the nightingale,
they shall be your lullaby.
And the stars, they will dance with joy
to marvel at the beauty that is you,
Until the sun is roused
to take them from your view.
Know that nothing, anything at all,
Seen by eye or not,
Can separate you from Me.
And when you wake,
and each day ever after,
keep close My words
in heart and mind
for they will be
a light unto your path.

This is utterly beautiful. The images are lovely, carefully drawn and enchanting. It is truly an inspired and inspirational work. Thank you.

you smug atheists…………..please stay silent

The realization that even when I thought nobody in the world would ever be able to know me because they weren’t in the room when I sat there with a bottle of Advil in one hand and a note saying goodbye in the other…
He had been there all along.

Call it stupidity if you like, but I’m just being honest. He is my joy, because He has been, is, and ALWAYS will be by my side.

I am trying to catch up on army wives by watching them online. I am on the 3rd episode because the first 2 arent posted online. I know Claudia Joy and Denise are fighting but I dont know why.

Denise had an affair and for awhile the wives were really condemning her because of it. as of now, frank(her husband) has forgiven her and they are trying to make it work. the hostility and tension that was between them is now pretty much gone and they’re friends again.

Creation Story from Joy Harjo & Poetic Justice. 1997. CD; Indian Secrets.

Sorry, I was too lazy to copy and paste every 10 seconds a new picture.

Duration : 0:5:50

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Interview withDr Joy De Gruy 1

Duration : 0:9:7

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Live,San Francisco ,October 16-18 2002
The Chameleons (called The Chameleons UK on some American releases) were a dream pop/post-punk band that formed in Middleton, in the Metropolitan Borough of Rochdale, Greater Manchester, England in 1981 (see 1981 in music). They consisted of singer and bassist Mark Burgess, guitarist Reg Smithies, guitarist Dave Fielding, and drummer John Lever. Their body of work is still critically acclaimed within the music press and influenced bands as diverse as The Smiths, Protokoll, The Comsat Angels, Puressence, Interpol, Editors and Oasis.[1]

The band initially released three studio albums in the 1980s. After their third release, Strange Times, in 1987 they abruptly disbanded following the sudden death of band manager Tony Fletcher. The Chameleons were, for all practical purposes, extinct for well over a decade before releasing a final studio album in 2001, entitled Why Call It Anything. The band quickly dissolved once again in 2002 due to personal differences, after a successful reunion tour which took them across Europe and the United States. The band never attained the level of commercial success or fame enjoyed by their contemporaries (e.g. U2, Echo and the Bunnymen, Joy Division)

Duration : 0:4:36

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