Valentine's Day

                                

    Red roses from Ron to me to you Pam..

   with love as always..

But to be frank, and give it thee again.
And yet I wish but for the thing I have:
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.

To all those people who knew Pam!

 

This photo of Pam was taken after my parents had visited a dog shelter.  They walked out of the shelter saying they didn't see a dog that they wanted so Pam marched them back in and this little puppy was the result.  They called him Spikey, he was dad's constant companion until he died in 2005 (the dog not dad!)  Pam loved dogs with a passion.

I was listening to a man on the radio last night, Frank Mundo as he talked about losing his brother a year ago.  He and his family have a website where they put all his brother's art work and photos and memories.  They also put stories and memories on there that friends share.  So I invite all those people who knew and loved Pam to please email me and share your stories so that I can put them on this blog.  Don't be shy!  Come on!

Wigwam Pam

I wrote this poem after Pam came to Santa Fe to spend Christmas with me in 2003.  

I suppose it still applies Pam...wherever you are my love...

Wigwam Pam
Telephone ma'am
Your heart in a clam
You had the same plan

Wigwam Pam
You also ran
As fast as you can
From the same man

La la la la pretty girl la
Do you know where you are?
Did you travel really far?
La la la la pretty girl lee
Did you set yourself free?
Did you find your own tree?

Wigwam Pam
Your Uncle Sam
Says don't give a damn
Live if you can

This explains perfectly why I do this...

And what is it to work with love?

It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, 

even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.

It is to build a house with affection,

even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.

It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest

with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.

It is to charge all things you fashion with the breath of 

your own spirit.

And to know that all the blessed dead

are standing about you and watching.

The Prophet by Kahil Gibran.