<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:55:33.209-07:00</updated><category term='I hate'/><category term='Thoughts'/><category term='me'/><category term='Valentines'/><category term='poems'/><category term='Love'/><title type='text'>My Withered Heart</title><subtitle type='html'>Heart in need of a change</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102.post-696682029470231349</id><published>2008-03-03T11:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T11:07:01.772-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Hard work!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R8xLbeHqcFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/IHPSIRQB3Mg/s1600-h/W00785.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173593007255613522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R8xLbeHqcFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/IHPSIRQB3Mg/s400/W00785.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I just want us all to ourselves. To not worry about not being here. To pack us up and just go. Like the days of old. Load up the horse and buggy and down the road we will go. But no thats not how it is. It's sitting and waiting all day for him to come home my heart waiting for his arms. I hate that I miss him so much He hates that he's gone so much. So for now I'll wait and beg no more for just a chance to dash out in the snow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2354061426661310102-696682029470231349?l=mywitheredheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/696682029470231349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2354061426661310102&amp;postID=696682029470231349&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/696682029470231349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/696682029470231349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/2008/03/hard-work.html' title='Hard work!!'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R8xLbeHqcFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/IHPSIRQB3Mg/s72-c/W00785.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102.post-5983355752570109857</id><published>2008-02-14T08:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T08:40:29.558-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Valentines'/><title type='text'>Valentines Day 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R7Ruem8IV7I/AAAAAAAAAD0/olgVlT4jnU0/s1600-h/My+Valentine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166876144628684722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R7Ruem8IV7I/AAAAAAAAAD0/olgVlT4jnU0/s320/My+Valentine.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Flowers are so Beautiful, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Your hand holds mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;The card so emmotional, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Never will we part.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Your Heart is in Mine,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;The Love of My Life ,Here for all time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2354061426661310102-5983355752570109857?l=mywitheredheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/5983355752570109857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2354061426661310102&amp;postID=5983355752570109857&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/5983355752570109857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/5983355752570109857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/2008/02/valentines-day-2008.html' title='Valentines Day 2008'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R7Ruem8IV7I/AAAAAAAAAD0/olgVlT4jnU0/s72-c/My+Valentine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102.post-4075132432484141840</id><published>2008-02-02T07:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T07:43:12.723-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>The Note</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R6SONOJ8HSI/AAAAAAAAADs/eWH4oAJn3fM/s1600-h/love+letter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162407430662659362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="174" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R6SONOJ8HSI/AAAAAAAAADs/eWH4oAJn3fM/s400/love+letter.jpg" width="264" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I still have the first note he ever scrawled me..it was on the back of an envolope and It was one sentence..." &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I miss You already&lt;/span&gt;". I treasure it. I wish He'd write more. I &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt; when He leaves me notes. I makes me feel so &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;loved &lt;/span&gt;and special. I wish early in the morning when he gets up to leave that one day he'd write something again. One day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2354061426661310102-4075132432484141840?l=mywitheredheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/4075132432484141840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2354061426661310102&amp;postID=4075132432484141840&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/4075132432484141840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/4075132432484141840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/2008/02/note.html' title='The Note'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R6SONOJ8HSI/AAAAAAAAADs/eWH4oAJn3fM/s72-c/love+letter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102.post-7503341308864616207</id><published>2008-01-29T07:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T07:50:42.681-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I hate'/><title type='text'>The Walk</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R59FAuJ8HRI/AAAAAAAAADk/S_036hUZlQE/s1600-h/The+Walk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160919576681913618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 449px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="244" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R59FAuJ8HRI/AAAAAAAAADk/S_036hUZlQE/s400/The+Walk.jpg" width="497" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I been thinking....pondering this &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; and I &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; it.I been stuck in a rut feeling like.. &lt;em&gt;My hand was on the door..&lt;/em&gt;evan though I really felt I had no where else to go. I miss him alot when he's gone all day and than when he's home it's so crazy that I just feel like a maid. I have lost count of how many kids we have....hahha I have to chuckle at that one..I haven't really lost count It just feels like it as I am spinning circles!! I am a snowwhite of sorts!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The oldest is &lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Grumpy&lt;/span&gt;..&lt;/span&gt;than there's &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Happy ..&lt;/span&gt;than theirs &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Whinney...&lt;/span&gt;than theirs.&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sleepy..!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;them with every breath I have and than some. I want more with him. Is that how ya know ya &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt; someone? You want more kids? HAHAHA!! I know the other nite when He got up at 3am so I could get some sleep after 3 sleepless nights..I know I felt truly l&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;oved &lt;/span&gt;and so glad to close my eyes knowing he was takin care of things!! And I know he works hard many days it's from 6am to after midnight. And thats just is hateful. I hate not seeing him. Than I start thinking well if Iam gonna be here alone I might as well be.....Ya than when he walks threw the door I melt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2354061426661310102-7503341308864616207?l=mywitheredheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/7503341308864616207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2354061426661310102&amp;postID=7503341308864616207&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/7503341308864616207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/7503341308864616207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/2008/01/walk.html' title='The Walk'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R59FAuJ8HRI/AAAAAAAAADk/S_036hUZlQE/s72-c/The+Walk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102.post-5472732300219408872</id><published>2008-01-28T18:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T18:22:11.031-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>At Seventeen</title><content type='html'>As I wrote this is me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/efHOIT1ROk8&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/efHOIT1ROk8&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2354061426661310102-5472732300219408872?l=mywitheredheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/5472732300219408872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2354061426661310102&amp;postID=5472732300219408872&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/5472732300219408872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/5472732300219408872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/2008/01/at-seventeen.html' title='At Seventeen'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102.post-1686229140334741263</id><published>2008-01-25T11:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T12:46:59.950-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Does He Love Me does He Not?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R5pEB-J8HNI/AAAAAAAAADE/S-KTyeUw96g/s1600-h/lover+kissing+hand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159511123761568978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R5pEB-J8HNI/AAAAAAAAADE/S-KTyeUw96g/s400/lover+kissing+hand.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's almost here..The day I really used to dread!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Serious.. I did!! I'd act all tough...I failed miserably. I hated feeling unloved. I grew up that way and it continued threw most of my adult life...the feeling of it. I love getting cards. I don't get many. I used to send out more. I'd never miss a birthday of anyone I knew. Though many missed mine. I go all out for holidays but many skip me. I don't do it because of the return..but all the same it still hurts. I wonder why. It hurts deeply.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So our Anniversary came and went no card not one!! and that includes him. Nope not one!! Not from a sis or sis in law or brother or brother in law not one..not from either of our mothers..not evan a call. And whats the importance of it all? ( I love to rhyme) Just feelings of one so small!! So I quit after a while of sending out birthdays, anniversary's and just saying hello at all. It's hard to realize I wasn't really as important to them as they were to me. Our kids birthdays go bye for the most part unnoticed. I invite few but I feel they'd rather not come. So it hurts. And it hurts worse when it's Him.. my Husband. Not evan a Christmas card .But he's busy. He's sorry. So now I am to the point of don't evan notice me on holidays or any other day.&lt;br /&gt;Ya know that song by &lt;em&gt;Janis Ian....At Seventeen&lt;/em&gt;? (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Well if not I'll write a few of the lines.. This is so me!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000099;"&gt;I learned the truth at 17 that Love was meant for beauty queens..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000099;"&gt;And high school girls with clear skinned smiles..Who married Young &amp;amp; than retired...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000099;"&gt;The &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Valentines&lt;/span&gt; I never knew... the Friday night charades of youth....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000099;"&gt;were spent on ones more beautiful..At 17 I learned the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;OOHH is that me or what. I sing the song and cry that's how pathetic I am!! But it's true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not ugly though I am not a beauty queen. I wonder every day whats wrong with me.&lt;br /&gt;So does He &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; me...or does He not?&lt;br /&gt;I think he does. I feel he does not. So what is right. Is it because I feel so unimportant in every ones life that it has taken over me...or is it so? How am I to know. It evan spills on to my kids. Especially the oldest. Whom I protected for so long from someone most wicked. Wheres mine..or will I never know?&lt;br /&gt;So I ask and I know I'll sit in silence and ponder it. And He's under my secret scrutiny.&lt;br /&gt;I always want to do loving things for the people I love . I see it all around me. it hurts when i am all alone or the feeling is there at least.&lt;br /&gt;So I feel as i did so long ago But I &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;ove &lt;/span&gt;him so so does it really matter in the end if there's a card or not?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2354061426661310102-1686229140334741263?l=mywitheredheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/1686229140334741263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2354061426661310102&amp;postID=1686229140334741263&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/1686229140334741263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/1686229140334741263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/2008/01/does-he-love-me-does-he-not.html' title='Does He Love Me does He Not?'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R5pEB-J8HNI/AAAAAAAAADE/S-KTyeUw96g/s72-c/lover+kissing+hand.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102.post-4678683291248803986</id><published>2008-01-21T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T13:28:01.180-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>In Preparation For Valentines Day!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R5UWTAUqJoI/AAAAAAAAAB4/YWv1C-NOXOM/s1600-h/Love+of+Old.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158053463982745218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 157px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 186px" height="217" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R5UWTAUqJoI/AAAAAAAAAB4/YWv1C-NOXOM/s320/Love+of+Old.jpg" width="211" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Love...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hummm does he &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;ove&lt;/span&gt; me or not?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I want him to just sweep me off my feet..Sometimes I want him to hug me soo tight..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And make me feel like he will never let me go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have You been swept off your feet by Your &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; ? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tell me I'd &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; to hear about it!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2354061426661310102-4678683291248803986?l=mywitheredheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/4678683291248803986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2354061426661310102&amp;postID=4678683291248803986&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/4678683291248803986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/4678683291248803986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-preparation-for-valentines-day.html' title='In Preparation For Valentines Day!!'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R5UWTAUqJoI/AAAAAAAAAB4/YWv1C-NOXOM/s72-c/Love+of+Old.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102.post-1481243572646741731</id><published>2008-01-15T11:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T13:26:47.608-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Someone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R5pRnuJ8HQI/AAAAAAAAADc/YnFuzUSxzvs/s1600-h/Rose+%26+heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159526065952791810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 283px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 177px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="244" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R5pRnuJ8HQI/AAAAAAAAADc/YnFuzUSxzvs/s400/Rose+%26+heart.jpg" width="314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; is very proud of you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; misses you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants to talk to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; hopes you aren't in trouble ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; is thankful for Your support ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants to hold your hand ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone &lt;/span&gt;hopes everything turns out all right ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants you to be happy ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; is celebrating your successes, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; thinks you ARE a gift ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants to hug you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; loves you ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; admires your strength, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;omeone&lt;/span&gt; is thinking of you and smiling ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants to be your shoulder to cry on ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; thinks the world of you ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants to protect you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; would do anything for you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants to be forgiven ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;omeone&lt;/span&gt; is grateful for your forgiveness,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants to laugh with you about old times ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone &lt;/span&gt;remembers you and wishes you were there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; needs to know that your love is unconditional ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; values your advice,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants to tell you how much they care ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;omeone&lt;/span&gt; wants to share their dreams with you ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants to hold you in their arms, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;omeone&lt;/span&gt; wants YOU to hold them in your arms ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; treasures your spirit ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone &lt;/span&gt;wishes they could STOP time for you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; can't wait to see you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wishes that things didn't have to change ,&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;omeone&lt;/span&gt; loves you for who you are ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; loves the way you make them feel ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; wants to be with you ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; hears a song that reminds them of you ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone &lt;/span&gt;wants you to know they are there for you ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; is glad that you're their friend ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; stayed up all night thinking about you ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; is alive because of you ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;omeone&lt;/span&gt; is wishing that you would notice them ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; misses your guidance and advice ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; values your guidance and advice,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; has faith in you &amp;amp; trusts you ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;omeone&lt;/span&gt; needs your support ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; needs you to have faith in them ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;someone will cry when they read this &amp;amp; maybe it'll be You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2354061426661310102-1481243572646741731?l=mywitheredheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/1481243572646741731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2354061426661310102&amp;postID=1481243572646741731&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/1481243572646741731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/1481243572646741731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/2008/01/someone-is-very-proud-of-you-someone.html' title='Someone'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R5pRnuJ8HQI/AAAAAAAAADc/YnFuzUSxzvs/s72-c/Rose+%26+heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102.post-7647601115802675267</id><published>2008-01-15T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T10:58:07.961-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poems'/><title type='text'>Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;Iam married. Love him so,&lt;br /&gt;Where this will go who knows.&lt;br /&gt;We have children with toes,&lt;br /&gt;Seems God only knows.&lt;br /&gt;Days fly by with some regrets,&lt;br /&gt;Hold me tight to help forget.&lt;br /&gt;Humbly I will walk alone,&lt;br /&gt;And Pray He leads me home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2354061426661310102-7647601115802675267?l=mywitheredheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/7647601115802675267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2354061426661310102&amp;postID=7647601115802675267&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/7647601115802675267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/7647601115802675267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/2008/01/me.html' title='Me'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2354061426661310102.post-1351901838041106585</id><published>2008-01-15T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T10:01:03.147-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poems'/><title type='text'>Withered I am</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4z0wAUqJmI/AAAAAAAAABk/g2xqw1j70cc/s1600-h/Postcard1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155764778989921890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4z0wAUqJmI/AAAAAAAAABk/g2xqw1j70cc/s320/Postcard1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Sometimes it's hard to go on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Sometimes it's hard being so alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Sometimes it seems like there is no end,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Other days it's right around the bend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2354061426661310102-1351901838041106585?l=mywitheredheart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/feeds/1351901838041106585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2354061426661310102&amp;postID=1351901838041106585&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/1351901838041106585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2354061426661310102/posts/default/1351901838041106585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mywitheredheart.blogspot.com/2008/01/withered-i-am.html' title='Withered I am'/><author><name>Withered Heart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07479206127315359968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4zxxQUqJkI/AAAAAAAAABY/3hzLBGLLr2k/S220/Postcard2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_qo33orGxghI/R4z0wAUqJmI/AAAAAAAAABk/g2xqw1j70cc/s72-c/Postcard1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
