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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http://immaculataconceptio.wordpress.com/prayer-petitions/
I will also ask the Poor Clare Colettine Nuns in Rockford, Illinois and in Minooka, Illinois to pray. The 6th is the actual feast of St. Colette.
I had similar surgery when I was four so if it went fine over forty years ago; it must be highly improved now.
Love,
her godmother