Stories told on porches in the night are the food that feeds our souls. A porch is a stepping off place, where girls kiss their parents goodbye and disappear into an adventure,where moms wait to hear their stories when they come home.It' a place where laughter drowns out the crickets, where friends become family. C'mon up to my porch, pull up a chair and tell me your story. We'll weave it into the quilt that wraps us up when life is cold.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
I have a life cant' wait for you I'm not through yet more rockin than rocking chair and I want it all I f you wanna come jump in and hang on with the wind in your hair cause it's a rough ride and you can bet I'll still be here for last call.
2 comments:
Yes Marti I think you will still be there for the last call.
I feel more alive now at this age than I did for many of my younger years. Go for it girl!
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