This page is dedicated to one of the Sweetest Ladies I know here in Bianca , or anywhere else for that matter ~soft smiles~ She is always charming, often very witty and funny, and sometimes a little foul mouthed, ~winking~ putting on the facade of being very tough and brash. Yet always underneath that exterior is a heart of gold. She is a caring, compassionate, wonderful person whom I am very proud to call my friend. I have been blessed many times with having the privilidge of seeing the "Real Dana." For my beautifull friend!
~a long sincere embrace, placing a soft kiss on Dana's cheek~
I had a poem much more appropriate which I had placed here for you on the other page, and unfortunately that page has disappeared. ~soft smiles~ I remember the sentiments well, and I hope you do also ...for it was very true for "Dana" ~smiling into your eyes~ It stated that a woman is like a rose in so many ways, and that when the "creator" formulated roses, he designed roses with women in mind and using the females of the species as a template....and in doing so he made a very classic statement regarding their beauty, strength, and passion....the rose and the woman are probably the Greatest two gifts placed here for mankind ~S~ and you Sweet Sweet Dana are an outstanding example of womanhood ~another gentle hug~
I have searched for that poem to place back here, but alas, I was unable to find it or one with the exact sentiments I desired. ~soft sigh~ I did however find this prose ...once again I would like to take credit for these fine words, however the true author is unknown.. Dana, Please enjoy these wise words of wisdom ~soft smile~
The Most Beautiful Flower
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree. Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown, for the world was intent on dragging me down. And if that weren't enough to ruin my day, a young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play. He stood right before me with his head tilted down and said with great excitement, "Look what I found!" In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight with its petals all worn - too much rain, or too little light. Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play, I faked a small smile and then shifted away. But instead of retreating he sat next to my side and placed the flower to his nose And declared with overacted surprise, "It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too. That's why I picked it; here, it's for you." The weed before me was dying or dead, Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red. But I took it so the young boy would leave. I reached for the flower, saying, "Just what I need." But instead of placing the flower in my hand, he held it mid-air without reason or plan. It was then that I noticed for the very first time that weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind. I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun as I thanked him for picking the very best one. You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play, unaware of the impact he'd had on my day. I sat there and wondered how he managed to see what I needed to see at all times. I vowed to see the all the beauty in life: to appreciate every second that's mine. And then I held that flower to my nose and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose. I smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in his hand, about to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.
~Author Unknown~
Dear "Dana" , Thank You for being my friend and letting me share in your life. I am sorry I couldn't find the other poem again. It was very very appropriate ~soft smiles~ I hope this page pleases you also
~sincere hugs~ Bandit
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