tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13425555.post2248107545461816674..comments2023-12-20T09:54:33.993-05:00Comments on Not Born to Run: For Julsjeannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15105083650427355181noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13425555.post-81355042927810583612007-03-23T07:22:00.000-04:002007-03-23T07:22:00.000-04:00that last photo is beautiful! not that the others ...that last photo is beautiful! not that the others aren't, but i loved the last one the most. it's a lovely tribute.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13425555.post-32102859374767211402007-03-23T01:40:00.000-04:002007-03-23T01:40:00.000-04:00wonderfully moving. Thanks so much.wonderfully moving. Thanks so much.iJulshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14436474104993233283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13425555.post-18309767156843935652007-03-22T17:28:00.000-04:002007-03-22T17:28:00.000-04:00I don't know Juls so I wouldn't intrude on her fee...I don't know Juls so I wouldn't intrude on her feelings at this time, but your memorial to her great loss is a feeling tribute. She is obviously very strong. The Dylan Thomas poem she posted recently, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, is a moving tribute to her loved one. <BR/><BR/>30 years ago I sent this poem to my Mother just before my Dad died of cancer. It helped me express my grief and gave tribute to my loved one. You have my condolences, Juls.<BR/><BR/>Because I Could Not Stop for Death by Emily Dickinson. <BR/><BR/>Because I could not stop for Death,<BR/>He kindly stopped for me;<BR/>The carriage held but just ourselves<BR/>And Immortality.<BR/><BR/>We slowly drove, he knew no haste,<BR/>And I had put away<BR/>My labour, and my leisure too,<BR/>For his civility.<BR/><BR/>We passed the school where children played,<BR/>Their lessons scarcely done;<BR/>We passed the fields of gazing grain,<BR/>We passed the setting sun.<BR/><BR/>We paused before a house that seemed<BR/>A swelling of the ground;<BR/>The roof was scarcely visible,<BR/>The cornice but a mound.<BR/><BR/>Since then 'tis centuries; but each<BR/>Feels shorter than the day<BR/>I first surmised the horses' heads<BR/>Were toward eternity.peterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17284634727671648704noreply@blogger.com