As I sat, deeeep in meditation, a series of melodic whispering please reached my ears...a mixture of laughter & crying, bordering on giddy hysteria. What? What's that I hear? You're trapped under an avalanche of tourists and the hotel is buried under a pile of s'mores.
Huh?? Who is this? And how did you get this number?
It was a symphony of voices, of colleagues past
Executing plans in season going fast
With Christmas a memory, awaiting the day
When finally the last of the snow melts away
Peace of mind, it will come, bringing with it spring flowers
Knowing again, the town soon will be ours
As President's weekend came and went
Colleagues on my mind were spent
Not far from my thoughts, yet the work I don't miss
From East to West a Namaste Kiss
If a destination you're searching for mud-season bliss
You know where to find me, along with my sis
Unless you're Tim Sanders, who should go somewhere classy
I'd be elated to buy your first honey lassi
This little lyrical ode to my friends
I hope you'll enjoy until ski season ends
Big hugs...and lotsa love. You're not (too) far from my thoughts...
~ by Christine Fowle