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posted by lisaluv

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posted by lisaluv

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posted by lisaluv

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posted by lisaluv

Hey where are you Mr. Trucker??
I do hope all is well and we connect some how either on myspace or here??? It worries me I haven't heard from you lately? I just love that big fluffy lion that greats us on your page here.. It is just so cool! Love ya Sweetie--May you be wonderfully blessed...

Hello my Wonderful friend!
I am trying to stop by all my EONS friends to encourage you to stop by my EONS site to see the Indian summer pics and listen to the Wonderful Indian summer Music (Maybe you’ll feel the urge to dance to the beats)=)
Also lately for some reason or another my MySpace has received many new unique special talents in friendships (I am always in awe of the phenomenal gifted loving spirits which join my circle of friends.) On this drizzily rainy weekend popping by my MySpace myspace.com/biillyjean to enjoy the wonderful peeps on there might also warm your soul.
Meanwhile I leave you with this beautiful poem to wish you a very Happy Lovely Indian Summer.
PURE LOVE I SEND TO YOU AND YOURS, BLESSINGS, LISA

Indian Summer.
Again the leaves come fluttering down,
Slowly, silently, one by one__
Scarlet, and crimson, and gold, and brown,__
Willing to fall, for their work is done.

And once again comes the dreamy haze,
Draping the hills with its filmy blue,
And veiling the sun, whose tender rays
With mellowed light come shimmering
through.

Softly it rests on the sleeping lake
This filmy veil__and the distant shore,
Fringed with tangles of bush and brake,
Shows a dim blue line and nothing more.

The winds are asleep, save now and then
Some wandering breeze comes stealing by,
Softly rises, then sinks again,
And dies away like an infant's sigh.

You feel the spell of these dreamy days
I know__for your heart is in tune with
mine.
You love the stillness, the tender haze;
I know for your thoughts with my own
entwine.

But this dreamy calm, this solemn hush,
The sleeping winds, and the mellow glow,
Only foretell the tempest's rush,
The icy blast, and the whirling snow.

We__you and I must bow to the frost,
When our locks are white with its hoary
kiss;
Our last rose scattered, its petals lost;
May our Indian Summer be calm__like this.
by__Ellen P. Allerton.


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