July 10, 2013

Written by Harold C. Randall

Love that is hoarded, moulds at last
Until we know some day
The only thing we ever have
Is what we give away

And kindness that is never used
But hidden all alone
Will slowly harden till it is
As hard as any stone

It is the things we always hold
That we will lose some day;
The only things we ever keep
Are what we give away.

I ran across this poem and felt it should be shared. 
The photograph is mine. 
The beautifully decorated dining room table was done by my equally beautiful wife Patricia. 


  1. Patricia is a lucky lady to have such an appreciative -- and expressive! -- husband as you.

  2. shared this on facebook. lovely