Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Monday, June 24, 2013
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Day 147 - June 16 Miss Number Ten
I guess I was distracted,
'Cause I don't think I can say
That I took a picture
To put up for this day.
I do not remember
Neglecting this again,
But I must sadly add
Day missed, number ten.
'Cause I don't think I can say
That I took a picture
To put up for this day.
I do not remember
Neglecting this again,
But I must sadly add
Day missed, number ten.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Day 140 - June 9 Miss Number Nine
This day
Was a day
Pleasant and gay
Later on, gray,
Rainy day
Down an alley
A bright little girl
Rain coming down
pictures
in my mind
but
not
on my camera
I forgot my chip.
Sad.
So I add
To my missed days.
Was a day
Pleasant and gay
Later on, gray,
Rainy day
Down an alley
A bright little girl
Rain coming down
pictures
in my mind
but
not
on my camera
I forgot my chip.
Sad.
So I add
To my missed days.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Day 139 - June 8
Yep, that's a racoon, and I took that with my 50mm lens. He was in the back, about three feet away outside the back window.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Monday, June 3, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Day 132 - June 1 Miss Number Eight
Yes, it is another miss.
Though I could blame the time it is,
I remembered at twelve and some
And strictly told myself I'm done.
The time is past, it is too late.
You are now on miss number eight.
As clock strikes twelve, it's a new day.
There's no excuse that you can say.
You had that many hours or more,
So no wheedling or being sore.
It's sad that while the year is not half gone
I've missed as many as I did the last one.
Call me a slacker; I won't deny.
I'll do better, that is, I'll try.
(Hey, at least I did better at the poem-writing. And it's even later than it was. Just goes to show that sometimes people exaggerate the effect that tiredness has on them. You can overcome it if you really want to. Usually.)
Though I could blame the time it is,
I remembered at twelve and some
And strictly told myself I'm done.
The time is past, it is too late.
You are now on miss number eight.
As clock strikes twelve, it's a new day.
There's no excuse that you can say.
You had that many hours or more,
So no wheedling or being sore.
It's sad that while the year is not half gone
I've missed as many as I did the last one.
Call me a slacker; I won't deny.
I'll do better, that is, I'll try.
(Hey, at least I did better at the poem-writing. And it's even later than it was. Just goes to show that sometimes people exaggerate the effect that tiredness has on them. You can overcome it if you really want to. Usually.)
Day 131 - May 31
Note: I don't normally put edited pictures on my Photo-a-day blog, but these were edited some, by the lovely model herself.
Day 130 - May 30
Remember how yesterday
I'd taken no photo?
Because my camera
Wasn't where it should go?
Well, I discovered this day,
I'd left it in my friend's car.
That made a good excuse
For missing once more.
But this day another friend
Let me borrow hers
So I've got a picture
I'll add when it's here.
(I know. That was just as bad as yesterday's poem and uncalled for. I don't care. It's still late. It's even later, actually.)
I'd taken no photo?
Because my camera
Wasn't where it should go?
Well, I discovered this day,
I'd left it in my friend's car.
That made a good excuse
For missing once more.
But this day another friend
Let me borrow hers
So I've got a picture
I'll add when it's here.
(I know. That was just as bad as yesterday's poem and uncalled for. I don't care. It's still late. It's even later, actually.)
Day 129 - May 29 Miss Number Seven
I should get my camera
And try to get a picture
Of the coon in the compost
And I would
If it were right here
Where I thought it was
But it's not.
And then, I forgot.
(What? That doesn't rhyme? That's called blank verse. It's very creative. What? You're not impressed? Well, okay, you're right. It's not creative blank verse, I am just too lazy to think of rhymes. Sorry. It's too late.)
And try to get a picture
Of the coon in the compost
And I would
If it were right here
Where I thought it was
But it's not.
And then, I forgot.
(What? That doesn't rhyme? That's called blank verse. It's very creative. What? You're not impressed? Well, okay, you're right. It's not creative blank verse, I am just too lazy to think of rhymes. Sorry. It's too late.)
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