Spell Checker

Eye halve a spelling chequer
it came wwith ny pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye cannot sea

Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh

As soo as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee four two long
And eye can put the error rite
It rare lea ever wrong

Eye have run this poem tjhrew it
Eye am shore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew

- Sauce unknown

January Diet Poem

It was the month after Christmas and all through the house
nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste,
at the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).
I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
the wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
and the way I'd never said, "No Thank you, please."

As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt
and prepared once again to do battle with dirt.
I said to myself, as I only can
"you can't spend a winter disguised as a man!"

So---away with the last of the sour cream dip,
get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip
every last bit of food that I like must be banished
till all the additional ounces have vanished.

I won't have a cookie----not even a lick.
I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick.
I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I'm hungry, I'm lonesome and life is a bore,
but isn't that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.

Believe in Yourself

Believe in yourself -
in the power you have
to control your own life, day by day,
Believe in the strength
that you have deep inside,
and your faith will help
show you the way.
Believe in tomorrow
and what it will bring -
let a hopeful heart carry you through,
For the things will work out
if you trust and believe
there's no limit
to what you can do.

by Emily Matthews

Declutter Happy

Stack it, store it, box it, shelve it,
Throw it, bin it, gift it, repair it,
Recycle, Freecycle, Charity shop or friend
Ebay, Antique shop, bargain ad or mend.

Books, clothes, tools, electronic games and toys,
Guitars, recorders, organs and other noise,
Gadgets old and new, that little black dress,
Ornaments, adornments, paperwork and mess.

Trash or treasure, how do you measure,
Sentiment, attachment, pain or pleasure,
Own it, hoard it, emotional ties,
Deal with it, clear it, open your eyes.

Just in case! What a waste! Ah there it is!
Not seen this for ages! - Just the bizz,
Lose that weight, I remember that date,
This I love and that ....I hate

This is just stuff and you've moved on,
It's belongs in the past - the past is gone,
Catalogue it, photo album. select the best,
Organise and cherish, discard the rest.

Happinesspages.com

Have I ever

Have I ever told you

that if I sit really still and silent,

sometimes. I like to think

I can hear your heart beating

in time with mine?

Have I ever told you

that when I watch you speak to me

through lines and cords,

and bytes and ram,

I imagine

your voice,

whispering into my ear?

Have I ever told you

that I wait out each day

in anticipation,

wanting

only an hour or two,

just a second in space and time,

to feel close to you?

Have I ever told you

that there has been times,

when I ached for you,

ached for you so badly,

that the emotions overwhelmed me..

and so I sat and cried?

Have I ever told you

that sometimes,

I will reach out,

touching your name

on this cold screen before me,

wishing

I could reach in

and pull you to me?

Have I ever told you

that after the first time I heard

the sound of your voice,

thousands of miles away,

I sat up all night,

turning the conversation

over and over in my mind,

examining it,

like some newly discovered

species of flower?

Have I ever told you

that I would give everything up,

just for one night

to be able to lay near you,

to feel your chest rise and fall

with each breath you take,

just to know that you are real?

Have I ever told you

that I dream of you often,

I dream of you reaching out

and touching my hand,

simply to let me know

that you are there,

and everything is okay?

Have I ever told you,

have I still yet to tell you . . .

that I love you?

- by Ravenz23

Variations On The Word Love

Margaret Atwood

This is a word we use to plug holes with.

It's the right size for those
warm blanks in speech
for those red heart-shaped vacancies
on the page that look nothing
like real hearts.
Add lace and you can sell it
We insert it also in the one empty space
on the printed form
that comes with no instructions.
There are whole magazines
with not much in them
but the word love,
you can rub it all over your body
and you can cook with it too.
How do we know it isn't what goes on
at the cool debaucheries of slugs
under damp pieces of cardboard?
As for the weed-seedlings nosing
their tough snouts up
among the lettuces, they shout it.
Love! Love! sing the soldiers,
raising their glittering knives in salute.

Then there's the two of us.
This word is far too short for us,
it has only four letters,
too sparse to fill those deep bare
vacuums between the stars
that press on us with their deafness.
It's not love we don't wish
to fall into, but that fear.
this word is not enough
but it will have to do.
It's a single vowel
in this metallic silence,
a mouth that says
O again and again in wonder and pain,
a breath, a finger grip on a cliffside.
You can hold on or let go.
You can hold on or let go.