Art Is Beautiful

Best Books Ever

Biz Women

Clip Art

Contests

Distractions

Doing Good

Faith

Friends

Gardens

Get Smart

Goodness Everywhere

Government

Happy Homemaking

Hope

Inspire

Joy

Kid Stuff

Laugh

Life On Earth

Living Well Is Revenge

Love

Momma

Money

Peace

Poems

Ponder

Projects

Recipes

Sanity Maintenance

She Did, You Can

Shop

Sing A Song

The Way I See It

Travel

We Are Watching

Women Authors

Women Who Write

Wonder

Work
HouseWifeMafia.com ~ The eMagazine For Women
Stop by the
TEA ROOM

It's a place where women
gather together.
Please take a moment to
visit our
Guest Book.

There are some
pretty darn funny entries
in there!

Feedback Form

HouseWifeMafia.com Sister Sites
Ring Owner: HouseWifeMafia.com  Site: HouseWifeMafia.com
Free Site Ring from Bravenet Free Site Ring from Bravenet Free Site Ring from Bravenet Free Site Ring from Bravenet Free Site Ring from Bravenet
Get Your Free Web Ring
by Bravenet.com

A WOUNDED deer leaps highest,  
I ’ve heard the hunter tell;  
’T is but the ecstasy of death,  
And then the brake is still.  

The smitten rock that gushes,        
The trampled steel that springs:  
A cheek is always redder  
Just where the hectic stings!  

Mirth is the mail of anguish,  
In which it caution arm,         
Lest anybody spy the blood  
And “You ’re hurt” exclaim!
"The brain is wider than the sky. "

- Emily Dickenson
IF I can stop one heart from breaking,  
I shall not live in vain;  
If I can ease one life the aching,  
Or cool one pain,  
Or help one fainting robin          
Unto his nest again,  
I shall not live in vain.
I HAVE no life but this,  
To lead it here;  
Nor any death, but lest  
Dispelled from there;  

Nor tie to earths to come,          
Nor action new,  
Except through this extent,  
The realm of you.  
"TTHE PEDIGREE
of honey  
Does not concern
the bee;  
A clover, any time,
to him  
Is aristocracy "
MUCH madness is divinest sense  
To a discerning eye;  
Much sense the starkest madness.  
’T is the majority  
In this, as all, prevails.          
Assent, and you are sane;  
Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,  
And handled with a chain
OUR share of night to bear,  
Our share of morning,  
Our blank in bliss to fill,  
Our blank in scorning.  

Here a star, and there a star,          
Some lose their way.  
Here a mist, and there a mist,  
Afterwards—day!
WITHIN my reach!  
I could have touched!  
I might have chanced that way!  
Soft sauntered through the village,  
Sauntered as soft away!          
So unsuspected violets  
Within the fields lie low,  
Too late for striving fingers  
That passed, an hour ago.