Wondering about wild grapes

Friday, June 1, 2012

Wondering about making cards.

I believe that I told you all before that my wife and I make cards to send to my Aunt who is in a Nursing Home in Pennsylvania.  We make one everyday for everyday the Post Office is open.  Since my wife, in my opinion, is the best artist and who comes up with the best ideas, she usually makes the cards and I then write a poem for each one.  Sometimes, when my wife, for some reason can’t make a card, I make one.  This happened last night, so I made a quick simple card to send off this morning.  Since I don’t have any great ideas for a blog this morning, I will just show you the poem and the card that we will be sending today.  This is the outside of the card, both front and back:



(Sorry about the black back-ground, I forgot to change the back-ground color and don't have time now.)


In case you have trouble reading the poem from the picture, I will type it here.

That Loving Look

Have you ever seen those loving stares
That a guy gives to the girl he adores?
In his eyes, the fire of love flares
But his stare and attention she ignores.

Boy I tell you she still plays it cool.
I bet you she loves all the attention.
He don’t care if he’s played for a fool.
Just so he gets at least some affection.

Do you think he will get close to her,
Or will he get rejected once again?
Would it help if he gave her a fur?
No furs, just a soft couch in the warm den.

Take a look inside. . .

OK, that was on the front of the card, and when you opened it, this filled both sides of the inside of the card: 



You all have a wonderful Friday now, you hear?

6 comments:

  1. That's so sweet , it's dripping honey.. :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yep Ben, but watch out for the bee stings. . .

      Delete
  2. Gosh i thot it would be like,,,,roses are red,,,etc.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Extremely well done. Thank you for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Barney. We get lots of practice since we do at least five a week for the last couple years, almost.

      Delete