My favorite poem of Betty's - Ginny Johnson Contemplation The trailing Morning Glory finding its way through the decaying fence. The Rhubarb thrusting strong sheaves of ruby stalks and rippling leaves. The sound of distant waves along the shore as pigeons defy passing traffic patterns. Now I know, when searching within to question the glory of the day. To walk in the home of the butterflies as they cling to their scaly branches To relive the walks on the sacred paths, the joy of days of discovery. To know and strive for a balance of giving - this is the dance of eternal living. Betty Normandin - Creative Writing Class 4-25-08