Joy Shopping in Nogales, Mexico — Image by kenne
— kenne
Cruise Sunset (June 2023) — Joy Silhouette by kenne
— kenne
Joy, My Desert Rose — Image by kenne
A Red, Red Rose
O my Luve’s like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June:
O my Luve’s like the melodie,
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!
And fare-thee-weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ ’twere ten thousand mile!
— Robert Burns
(Robert Burns’ works have transcended time, with modern musician Bob Dylan citing Burns’ poem A Red, Red Rose
as having the lyrics that have had the biggest effect on his life. Source: Scotland.org)
Joy In A Jackson Square Restaurant for Lunch — Image by kenne
— kenne
Today is Joy’s Birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, My Love
How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)
— Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Joy, Katelyn, and Dave, July 4, 2004
— Khalil Gibran
Abstract of Joy by kenne
The Tao of Blu
— kenne
We Share Another Birthday, Together.
Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
“Cheers,” Joy — Image by kenne
“Sonnet 116” by William Shakespeare
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments.
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Another Glass Of Wine My Dear (April 5, 2007) — Image by kenne
Have Some Medeira, M’dear
She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice
She was fair, she was sweet seventeen.
He was old, he was vile, and no stranger to vice
He was base, he was bad, he was mean.
He had slyly inveigled her up to his flat
To view his collection of stamps,
And he said as he hastened to put out the cat,
The wine, his cigar and the lamps:
Have some madeira, m’dear.
You really have nothing to fear.
I’m not trying to tempt you, that wouldn’t be right,
You shouldn’t drink spirits at this time of night.
Have some madeira, m’dear.
It’s really much nicer than beer.
I don’t care for sherry, one cannot drink stout,
And port is a wine I can well do without…
It’s simply a case of chacun a son gout
Have some madeira, m’dear.
Unaware of the wiles of the snake-in-the-grass
And the fate of the maiden who topes,
She lowered her standards by raising her glass,
Her courage, her eyes and his hopes.
She sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did!
He promptly refilled it again,
And he said as he secretly carved one more notch
On the butt of his gold-headed cane:
Have some madeira, m’dear,
I’ve got a small cask of it here.
And once it’s been opened, you know it won’t keep.
Do finish it up.
It will help you to sleep.
Have some madeira, m’dear.
It’s really an excellent year.
Now if it were gin, you’d be wrong to say yes
The evil gin does would be hard to assess..
Besides it’s inclined to affect me prowess,
Have some madeira, m’dear.
Then there flashed through her mind what her mother had said
With her antepenultimate breath,
“Oh my child, should you look on the wine that is red
Be prepared for a fate worse than death!”
She let go her glass with a shrill little cry,
Crash!
Tinkle! it fell to the floor;
When he asked,
“What in Heaven?”
She made no reply,
Up her mind, and a dash for the door.
Have some madeira, m’dear.
Rang out down the hall loud and clear
With a tremulous cry that was filled with despair,
As she fought to take breath in the cool midnight air,
Have some madeira, m’dear.
The words seemed to ring in her ear.
Until the next morning, she woke in her bed
With a smile on her lips and an ache in her head…
And a beard in her lug ‘ole that tickled and said:
Have some madeira, m’dear!
—Flanders and Swann
“Remembering Mom” — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
Kenne & Joy Many, Many Years Ago –Those Were The Days!
— Paulo Coelho
Joy and Kenne — Photo-Artistry by kenne
get up
cover it
no prescription
will change
with time
think not
ask her
she knows
— kenne
I thought about you, girlfriend
I thought about today
Taking a big breath.
I thought about tomorrow
Exceeding my grasp.
I thought about time
Wondering about timeless.
I thought about life
Asking the question.
I thought about people
Knowing not what I see.
I thought about what is
Wondering why?
I thought about ideals
Seeking what should be.
I thought about art
Becoming aware.
I thought about love
Touching the feeling.
I thought about Joy
Feeling love inside.
I thought about you,
Walking with long shadows.
I thought about tomorrow
Sharing your path.
— kenne
