Summer is here, and it's the perfect time To bask in the sun with a friend so sublime. With wagging tails and joyful cheer, The Dog Days of Summer are finally here.
We chase the rays and run through the fields, Enjoying the warmth that the season yields. Splashing in water, tongues hanging out, These moments of bliss, we can't live without.
From dawn till dusk, we play and explore, Finding new adventures at every door. With every bark and every bound, In these Dog Days, pure joy is found.
So let's embrace the sunny days, With our furry friends in endless ways. For the Dog Days of Summer are here to stay, Bringing happiness to every day.
FRANCE – JUNE 01: World War II. Normandy landings. American reinforcements landing from barges at Utah-Beach (Manche) to deploy towards Cherbourg, June 1944. (Photo by Roger Viollet/Getty Images)
On Normandy's shores, where history was made, Brave souls in the dawn's first light arrayed. Eighty years have passed since that fateful day, Yet their courage and sacrifice never fade away.
Let us remember those who stormed the beach, Their valor and bravery beyond our reach. But also the medics and chaplains who cared, In the midst of chaos, they bravely dared.
With bandages, prayers, and comforting hands, They brought hope and healing to war-torn lands. Families of these heroes, in our hearts, you remain, Your loved ones' service was not in vain.
We ask for prayers, for strength and grace, For those who faced war's grim embrace. May their legacy of kindness and love, Shine down on us from the heavens above.
On this 80th year, we honor and pray, For the medics and chaplains of that historic day. Their selfless acts in the darkest of times, Echo through the ages, in our hearts, they chime.
In Florence, Italy, in a small church's light, A loyal dog named Tommy finds solace every night. His heart, like a shadow, aches with deep sorrow, Since his dear friend Maria left him in tomorrow.
Maria Margarita Loci, a name that sings, Found Tommy in the fields, gave him his wings. For seven years, they walked life's tender road, In her quiet, gentle heart, his love overflowed.
No close friends had she, but Tommy by her side, A bond so pure, with love they did abide. To the church she brought him, with a priest’s kind grace, Together in the pews, they found a sacred place.
But now Maria's gone, her spirit soared on high, And Tommy waits in silence, beneath the church’s sky. He hears the bells' toll, each chime a solemn call, To the altar he goes, where shadows softly fall.
"He still comes to Mass," says priest Donato Panna, "Patiently he waits, in love's quiet manner. By the altar he sits, his heart steadfast and true, A silent witness to a love that once grew."
In the sacred silence, in the stillness of the pew, Tommy dreams of Maria, where love always renews. For in the heart of Florence, in a church so divine, A dog’s devotion lingers, transcending time.
In the quest for God's love, a journey deep and true, Never satisfied, yet seeking, in hearts both old and new. Where to seek among the meek, in whispers soft and mild? In humble souls and gentle hearts, where grace is reconciled.
Amidst the quiet valleys and the shadows of the hill, In the laughter of the children, in the song of the whippoorwill. In acts of kindness, simple gestures, and words of tender care, God's love resides, ever-present, for those who seek it there.
In the touch of a stranger's hand, in the warmth of a friend's embrace, In the tears of joy and sorrow, in every sacred space. For God's love knows no boundaries, it's boundless as the sea, And in the hearts of the meek, it finds its sanctuary.
So seek not in grandeur or in riches vast and grand, But in the quiet moments, in the touch of a helping hand. For God's love is ever-present, in the meek and lowly soul, In every act of kindness, in every heart made whole.
From Creek Nation’s heartland, they once did depart, The Miccosukee people, with a warrior’s heart. Southward they journeyed, through land and through strife, To Florida’s embrace, seeking new life.
In the swamps and the marshes, where waters do gleam, They found a new home, in the land of their dream. Before it was states, before lines were drawn, They thrived in the wild, in the light of the dawn.
The Indian Wars came, a shadow, a blight, The Miccosukee stood firm, ready to fight. Many were taken, to the West they were sent, But a resolute hundred, to the glades they went.
Mikasuki tongues whispered, through the reeds and the air, In the Everglades vast, they made their lair. Refusing surrender, their spirit unbowed, In the heart of the swamp, they silently vowed.
To endure and to live, with the land and the sky, Underneath the broad wings of the heron’s cry. The Miccosukee’s tale, of strength and of pride, In the heart of the Everglades, they still reside.
In the pouring rain, a gentleman stepped out, From his SUV, with a heart devout. Two kids ahead, one pushing a broken bike, He paused his world, to do what's right.
Drenched in the rain, he knelt down low, Fixed the bike with a gentle glow. Five minutes passed, yet seemed like a while, Kids rode off happy, he left with a smile.
An act of kindness, pure and bright, Lit up the day, in the soft rainlight. A moment so simple, yet deeply profound, He gave us a smile, as love came around.
