Stories From My Garden: Dancing Queen's New Best Friend

Monday, May 2, 2011

Dancing Queen's New Best Friend

Dancing Queen has a new buddy. Meet TAYLOR STAGG -- her newest best friend. Taylor Swift is one of her favorite artists. Her guitar is a Stagg brand. Get it? :)

Glad to see my children are hooked to music. My other one, my DS, is a pianist who will be competing by the end of this year in a Piano competition sposored by NAMCYA or The National Music Competitions for Young Artists Foundation.

Someday, it would be my and DH's pride and joy to see both of them perform for the Lord. Either in dance (for Dancing Queen), or music (for DS). :)

There is nothing in the world
so much like prayer as music is.
William P. Merrill

No comments:

Post a Comment

God's Bouquet

You must bloom where you are planted,
In the garden we call life,
And bring some special beauty,
To each corner where there's strife.
Perhaps you're but a dandelion,
Wishing you were a rose,
Yet in this place of growingthings,
You're the one God chose.
It's up to you to finish,
What the good Lord has begun,
By growing just the way youshould,
And face each day's new rising sun.
There's room for you if you choose,
To be in a glorious array,
Of beauty from God's garden,
That He'll add to His bouquet.

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:--
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth (1815)