RAINBOW ISLAND RISING

happY daY tO yA.

May the rivers forever run wild.
The valleys nestle them.
and forests know them.
For when we are one we are in harmony ....




Thanks for your new light and inspiration !

Thanks for accepting my invitation! Greetings from Nashville TN! As a thank you, snag 2 FREE downloads... -

every person on this earth has a story..what is yours..also wanted to personally thank you for even taking the chance to listen for real
so many bands on here it is really respectable
so here is my thanks..write back :)

CAN HARDLY WAIT for Sunday, April 12, 2009
TO YELL OUT...

"Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air - explode softly - and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth - boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn't go cheap, either - not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination." ~Robert Fulghum



Peace and blessings from Frankieboy

Hi there , hope all's well in yer world and yer mind. Just droppin' by tae let ye know
about the new STY at
 www.alienpig.co.uk It would be nice if ye could drop by and have a wee snuffle about.
Stay forever free with love and good vibes from the STY.
 PIG X ;@)

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(Hi: enjoyed my visit.)

After you've finished here, you may like to hear this poem sung on myspace...

Poem 2 of 230, WalkaboutsVerse
(please see my blog):
WALKABOUT WITH MY PEN

Once drove an old sedan, up north,
From a place in Sydney to Cairns;
Then to Kuranda I went forth,
By train, to look without set plans.

I browsed through the trendy market,
With fresh fruits of tropical kind;
Walked to the creek through lush thicket -
Nature’s hand giving peace of mind.

I dined in a scenic cafe;
Then, outside, as I wrote for yen,
Some passing Kooris called-out: “Hey,
You go walkabout with your pen.”

Request or question, I don’t know -
Assured voices, elderly men.
That’s now several years ago,
And I’ve seen the world - with my pen.

(C) David Franks 2003