apples
apples are red
apples are yellow
even though I can't play the cello
when I eat and apple I feel so mellow.
posted by Ioana & Mark @ 6:58 AM
0 comments
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
apples are yellow
even though I can't play the cello
when I eat and apple I feel so mellow.
About Me
- Name: Ioana & Mark
Our past is European; genes & cells, assembled from proteins, machinery of strong, inventive people. In Transylvanian Alps, German plains, coastal Sweden, they herded sheep, tended farms, mended nets, fought wars, mined coal. They traveled to Bucharest, Frankfurt, Stockholm for trade, weddings. Some were gypsies; wild, with love for life, nature. Their dances, songs, tales, expressions from heart, stirring souls. Now we’re American – pursuing liberty, concerned by liberties preservation. We’re carbon atoms exchanged between relatives, friends, foes. Those atoms, from touch, now in tissues, hearts, minds. We’re the grains, fruits, vegetables eaten; preservatives, steroids, antibiotics consumed. We’re the books read, sports played, joys and sorrow caused. We’re the future. Yet, our present holds command of future. We’ll measure ourselves against ancestors, friends, define ourselves by our standards, ideas, dreams. We’ll become our triumphs, defeats, achievements, failures, Loves, hates – though with blessing, might the entireties serve to motivate more than make complacent. We urn for beauty, truth, soul of life - that which searches to know thyself.
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