The Seasons: A Poem

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Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai
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Into Narnia

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I posted last week about our reading of the Narnia Series. Today it was as though we were able to walk right out of the Wardrobe and into Narnia. I kept looking for the Lamppost. Here are a few of the pictures I took. For more great pictures from our adventure you can go here.


We woke up to an unexpected snowfall so we decided to do a little hiking at Ash Cave. It was absolutely beautiful. The peace and quiet was awesome. The 3+ inches of snow made for great fun and incredible pictures. Not mention some great memories. Like when we were on our way home I rolled down the window to see coming traffic better and the window would not go back up. Four little boys froze their toes off before we got home in time for the hot chocolate, marshmallows, and cookies.









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