I divide my time between homes in Arizona and England, six months a year in each place.
quote by Terri Windling

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The Christmas Homes of England
The Christmas homes of England!
How far-famed and how dear;
In bright array they ever stand,
That glad day of the year;
When gathered round the hearth-stone,
The loved ones joyful meet,
With one accord from far and near,
The circle glad to greet.
The Christmas homes of England!
O, many a joyous brow,
Which ever yet hath hailed that day,
Will sorrowfully bow,
When this one now returneth;
For they look, but look in vain,
The pride and joy of that glad home,
They ne'er shall see again!
The Christmas homes of England!
In manhood's noblest bloom,
On Alma's bloody fields thy lords
Have found their lowly tomb;
The warrior grey, whose stalwart arm
Had prostrate laid the foe;
And gallant sons of noble sires,
By them in death lie low!
The Christmas homes of England!
Alike in peasant's cot,
Where hath the death-wail not been heard,
Where hath it entered not?
And the widowed mother silent weeps,
And sheds the bitter tear,
As fancy sees her gallant boy,
The cold ground for his bier!
The Christmas homes of England!
In that far-off Eastern land,
What thoughts will be awakened
Among that gallant band?
How from scenes so dark and fearful,
Their spirit will take flight
To the bright home of their childhood,
And the happy Christmas night!
The Christmas homes of England!
The love of many years
Is turned into a ceaseless fount
Of bitterness and tears;
The mother and the widow,
The maiden and the child,
They call; but none shall answer,
Those loving accents mild!
O, Christmas homes of England!
There's One, the widow's God!
Who, while He chastens, pitieth
The sad ones 'neath His rod;
His arm beneath supported
Thy loved ones in the field,
And whispered, "Leave thy little ones
To me, their God, their shield!
O, Christmas homes of England!
Let all unite in prayer,
That He, the widow's God, may take
Such to His special care;
And we to whom he spareth
Our hearts best treasure yet;
The widow and the orphan,
O let us not forget!
poem by Caroline Hayward

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I have a home in Arizona. I go a couple months a year, but basically Chicago is my home.
quote by Dennis Farina

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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June And July
June and July are right in the middle
Of a time that is a period to learn.
The months of our summer in this land
I call England,
Are like these months.
The other months work for these ones,
And those ones that are not these two months
Still believe in the sun and moon and planets.
They trust the stars, walk in the mind
And state our successes, in all our graveness.
The grave has no month, but lives in years
To manage the time in heaven.
For some June is like July,
But I think what they look is what they are.
poem by Naveed Akram

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Rider In The Rain
Got a gun in my holster
Got a horse between my knees
And Im goin to arizona
Pardon me, boys, if you please
I have been a desperado
Raped and pillaged cross the plain
Now, Im goin to arizona
Just a rider in the rain
Hes a rider in the rain
Hes a rider in the rain
And Im goin to arizona
Hes a rider in the rain
Oh, my mothers in st. louis
And my brides in tennessee
So, Im goin to arizona
With a banjo on my knee
Hes a rider in the rain
Hes a rider in the rain
And Im goin to arizona
Hes a rider in the rain
Used to work in uncles feed store
While he was fightin in the war
Now Im goin to arizona
Aint gonna work for him no more
Im the son of the prairie
And the wind that sweeps the plain
So, Im goin to arizona
Just a rider in the rain
Hes a rider in the rain
Hes a rider in the rain
And Im goin to arizona
Hes a rider in the rain
Hes a rider in the rain
Hes a rider in the rain
And Im goin to arizona
Just a rider in the rain
song performed by by Randy Newman

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A Year and A Day
A year and a day
Are all that lay
Between me and
My love
A year and a day
Three months 'til May
The year leaping
Above
A year and a day
You scorn to say
Is destiny
Belov'd
A year and a day
I slight cliché
This puzzle I
Speak of
A year and a day
Do not delay
Migrate to me
My dove
A year and a day
No time astray
Like seconds that
I shove
A year and day
From the same clay
You claim you are
Void of
A year and a day
All night I pray
That you would be
My love
poem by Brandon McConnell

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The Homes Of England
The stately homes of England
How beautiful they stand!
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
O'er all the pleasant land!
The deer across their green sward bound
Through shade and sunny gleam,
And the swan glides past them with the sound
Of some rejoicing stream.
The merry homes of England!
Around their hearths by night,
What gladsome looks of household love
Meet in the ruddy light!
There woman's voice flows forth in song,
Or childhood's tale is told;
Or lips move tunefully along
Some glorious page of old.
The cottage homes of England!
By thousands on her plains,
They are smiling o'er the silv'ry brook,
And round the hamlet-fanes;
Through glowing orchards forth they peep,
Each from its nook of leaves;
And fearless there the lowly sleep,
As the bird beneath their eaves.
The free fair homes of England!
Long, long in hut and hall
May hearts of native proof be rear'd
To guard each hallow'd wall.
And green for ever be the groves,
And bright the flow'ry sod,
Where first the child's glad spirit loves
Its country and its God.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

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I went into rehab December 14th, 1996, and got out eight months later? Then I went into a sober living place where I stayed for three months. I've been clean for a good year and a half.
quote by Marc Wallice

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We spent a month in Japan last year, a week in Istanbul for the United Nations, and nearly three months in my native Nova Scotia, where my two brothers have homes; and we'll go back there this summer.
quote by Robert MacNeil

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Ripoff
I don't wanna be no traitor to the cause
But England is a luxury - not many can afford
There's people going under - it's getting out of hand
Whatever happened to our - our green and pleasant land?
It turned into a wilderness; it turned into a third world country
Most people ain't getting what they pay for
Some people gettin' more than they should be
I know, I know - I'm an alien - but what are you gonna do
I wanna live in England - but it gets to you
It gets to you, it gets to you, it gets to you
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
I really don't know why - England wants to rip off you
England wants to rip off you, England wants to rip off you
What do you do when you find out?
Where do you go if you leave?
There's no place like home - that's what they say
And that's what you always believed
Someday you might win the Lottery
Someday you might win the Pools
But that's all you've got - that's all you've got
- to live for, to live for
That's all you've got - that's all you've got -
to live for, to live for (yeah)
To be or not to be - that's the question
Oh what's it gonna be?
I'd love to live in England - but it gets to me
it gets to me, it gets to me, yeah it gets to me
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
I really don't know why - England wants to rip off you
England wants to rip off you, England wants to rip off you
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
Oh I really don't know why - England wants to rip off
England wants to rip off , England wants to rip o
song performed by by Ian Hunter

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There 'Use' To Be A Winter In New England
Pretty soon people will be complaining,
About getting any snow at all.
Especially in New England...
When Summer and Fall,
Seem to rush to connect with Spring.
It is January and there is a dusting of snow.
And people heard strolling on the streets...
Say it is cold.
Wearing nothing but jackets and no Winter coats.
There 'use' to be a Winter in New England,
This time of the year.
And many would ski and slide the slopes.
Prepared in their snow wearing gear.
And every year Winter seems to be taking a backseat,
As warmer days come to tease...
Those who love the snow,
To witness it quickly leave.
There 'use' to be a Winter in New England,
This time of the year.
Pretty soon people will be complaining,
About getting any snow at all.
When Summer and Fall,
Seem to rush to connect with Spring.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Old England
Man looks up on a yellow sky
And the rain turns to rust in his eye
Rumours of his health are lies
Old england is dying
His clothes are dirty shade of blue
And his ancient shoes worn through
He steals from me and he lies to you
Old england is dying
Still he sings an empires song
And he keeps his navy strong
And he sticks his flag where it ill belongs
Old england is dying
Youre asking what makes me sigh now
What it is makes me shudder so
Well
I just freeze in the wind
And Im numb from the pummeling of the snow
That falls from high in yellow skies
Where the time stained of england flies
Where the homes are warm and the mothers sigh
Where comedians laugh and babies cry
Where criminals are televised politicians fraternize
Journalists are dignified and everyone is civilised
And children stare with heroin eyes
Old england!
Evening has fallen
The swans are singing
The last of sundays bells is ringing
The wind in the trees is sighing
And old england is dying
song performed by by Waterboys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old England
Man looks up on a yellow sky
And the rain turns to rust in his eye
Rumours of his health are lies
Old england is dying
His clothes are dirty shade of blue
And his ancient shoes worn through
He steals from me and he lies to you
Old england is dying
Still he sings an empires song
And he keeps his navy strong
And he sticks his flag where it ill belongs
Old england is dying
Youre asking what makes me sigh now
What it is makes me shudder so
Well
I just freeze in the wind
And Im numb from the pummeling of the snow
That falls from high in yellow skies
Where the time stained of england flies
Where the homes are warm and the mothers sigh
Where comedians laugh and babies cry
Where criminals are televised politicians fraternize
Journalists are dignified and everyone is civilised
And children stare with heroin eyes
Old england!
Evening has fallen
The swans are singing
The last of sundays bells is ringing
The wind in the trees is sighing
And old england is dying
song performed by by Waterboys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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September Quandary
Thirty days does have September,
But there's one thing I don't remember.
What happened to those eight other months?
I know I must appear a dunce, but…
All this time couldn't pass me by I don't believe,
While I celebrated last year's New Year's Eve.
Then before I could make it to New Year's Day,
Exactly 243 days of this year have passed away.
Never again will this calendar inhibit my sight.
People and experiences will be focused delight.
poem by Gregory Huyette

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Trafalgar Day
LAURELS, bring laurels, sheaves on sheaves,
Till England's boughs are bare of leaves!
Soon comes the flower more rare, more dear
Than any laurel this year weaves--
The Aloe of the hundredth year
Since from the smoke of Trafalgar
He passed to where the heroes are,
Nelson, who passed and yet is here,
Whose dust is fire beneath our feet,
Whose memory mans our fleet.
Laurels, bring laurels, since they hold
His England's tears in each green fold,
His England's joy, his England's pride,
His England's glories manifold.
Yet what was Victory since he died?
And what was Death since he lives yet,
Above a Nation's worship set,
Above her heroes glorified?--
Nelson, who made our flag a star
To lead where Victories are!
poem by Edith Nesbit

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A Year Like This One
After a year like this one
Im surprised I do not hate your guts
And, after a year like this one
Im suprised I still love music just as much
After a year like this one
Im suprised I did not eat my arm
And, after a year like this one
Im sorry if Im not cordial to everyone
La la la la la ....
After a year like this one
Im suprised I do not hate your guts
And, after a year like this one
Im suprised I still love music just as much
After a year like this one
Im suprised I did not eat my arm
And, after a year like this one
Im sorry if Im not cordial to everyone
La, la, la, la, la.....
After a year like this one
Im supised I am convinced at all
And, after a year like this one
I do not roll my eyes at the cynical
And,after a year like this one
I cant help wonder how theyve been
After a year like this one
I think Ill leave it all to my next-of-kin
La, la, la, la, la.....
After a year like this one
Im suprised were all not raving drunks and
After a year like this one
I want you to choose the restaurant
After a year like this one
Ill need a good whole 16 months alone and
After a year like this one
I think Ill make the west coast beaches my new home
La, la, la, la, la.....
song performed by by Alanis Morissette

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Yankees have better starting pitchers than Arizona. Arizona just has two... the Yanks have four.
quote by Keith Hernandez

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Illiteracy
some homes breed love
some homes breed hatred
some homes breed moderation
some homes breed extremes
some homes breed worldliness
some homes breed racism
some homes breed kindness
somehomes breed religious bigotry
throw in illiteracy and any country would be bloom to bits
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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For My Daughters
never forget my daughters
you are and will always be
among my greatest blessings
from God
throughout
a long life
I waited
a long time
for each
of you
too
be born
I spoke
to you
loved you
for months
and months
before your births
I held you
in my arms
in my heart
year after year
each
day rising
loving you
through all life's
trials
among all my greatest
blessings your hands
your love your smiles
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Whoevers In New England
(kendal franceschi/quentin powers)
You spend an awful lot of time in massachutes
Seems like every other week youve got a meeting waiting there
Business must be booming or could something else
Be moving in the air up there
You say that its important for our future
An executive on his way up has got to play the part
Each time duty calls you got to give it all
Youve got with all your heart
When whoevers in new england is through with you
And boston finds better things to do
You know its not too late cause youll always have a place to go
When whoevers in new englands through with you
I hear the winter time up north can last forever
Ive been told its beautiful to see this time of year
They say the snow can blind you till the world you left behind
Just disappears I hear
I packed your bags and left them in the hallway
But before you leave again theres just one thing you outta know
When the icy winds blow through you remember that its me
Who feels the cold most of all
When whoevers in new england is through with you
And boston finds better things to do
You know its not too late cause youll always have a place to go
When whoevers in new englands through with you
song performed by by Reba Mcentire

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Well, it's not full time - my dancers are only paid for six months of the year in two three-month blocks; but yes, it is possible we could do it in another year.
quote by Siobhan Davies

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