A single wish can spark a universe of joy.

n a garden where the sunbeams play, Wishes dance on a golden ray. Soft and gentle, like a hummingbee, Moments of hope, so bright and free. Close your eyes and take a breath, Whisper your dreams, let go of the rest. With every wish, the flowers bloom, Filling the world with sweet perfume. Clouds may gather, but don’t you fret, For sunshine wishes are never forget. They sparkle and glimmer like stars at night, Guiding our hearts with warming light. So dream, dear child, and believe in the day, With sunshine wishes, find your way. Wrap your hopes in a soft, warm hug, And let the world feel your love, snug as a bug.

pieones pink

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In a garden where the sunbeams play, Wishes dance on a golden ray. Soft and gentle, like a hummingbee, Moments of hope, so bright and free. Close your eyes and take a breath, Whisper your dreams, let go of the rest. With every wish, the flowers bloom, Filling the world with sweet perfume. Clouds may gather, but don’t you fret, For sunshine wishes are never forget. They sparkle and glimmer like stars at night, Guiding our hearts with warming light. So dream, dear child, and believe in the day, With sunshine wishes, find your way. Wrap your hopes in a soft, warm hug, And let the world feel your love, snug as a bug.

pieones pink

The wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond the grave, Derives it not from what we have The likest God within the soul? Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life; That I, considering everywhere Her secret meaning in her deeds, And finding that of fifty seeds She often brings but one to bear, I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.

Bell Rosy

The wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond the grave, Derives it not from what we have The likest God within the soul? Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life; That I, considering everywhere Her secret meaning in her deeds, And finding that of fifty seeds She often brings but one to bear, I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.

Bell Rosy