Guestbook Butterflies

I\'ve banished Winter, saith the Spring,
Awake! arise, ye flowers!
Brisk breezes blow,
Bright sunshine glow,
And rouse the young Year\'s powers.
~Henry James Slack (1818–1896), The Ministry of the Beautiful, \"Conversation IV: Spring-time on the Western Coast,\" 1850 [Edith speaking —tεᖇᖇ¡·g]

Guestbook Butterflies

‏Irish Eyes are Smiling

When Irish eyes are smiling, sure \'tis like a morn in spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter you can hear the angels sing,
When Irish hearts are happy all the world seems bright and gay,
And when Irish eyes are smiling, sure, they steal your heart away.
~Chauncey Olcott and George Graff, Jr. (lyrics), Ernest R. Ball (music)

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

May all good things come your way,
as you go through each night and day.

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

While you are sitting by the fireplace,
roasting chestnuts, and watching the
warm glow of the candles, may you
always remember the many blessings
Christmas brings to us all, as we
remember those less fortunate.

Guestbook Butterflies

Merry Christmas from Butterfly Sakura! Click the graphic for a special musical present

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

Thanksgiving Delights

On Thanksgiving Day we\'re thankful for
Our blessings all year through,
For family we dearly love,
For good friends, old and new.

For sun to light and warm our days,
For stars that glow at night,
For trees of green and skies of blue,
And puffy clouds of white.

We\'re grateful for our eyes that see
The beauty all around,
For arms to hug, and legs to walk,
And ears to hear each sound.

The list of all we\'re grateful for
Would fill a great big book;
Our thankful hearts find new delights
Everywhere we look!

By Joanna Fuchs

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

Autumn is for caring, preparing, and sharing the plants you want to keep before the coming pf Winter\'s long sleep.

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

Guestbook Butterflies

O thou who passest thro\' our valleys in
Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer,
Oft pitched\'st here thy goldent tent, and oft
Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.

Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard
Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car
Rode o\'er the deep of heaven; beside our springs
Sit down, and in our mossy valleys, on
Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy
Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:
Our valleys love the Summer in his pride.

Our bards are fam\'d who strike the silver wire:
Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:
Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:
We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy,
Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven,
Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat.
To Summer
William Blake