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Cheers

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Credit goes to Scrapbook Factory Deluxe by Nova. Photo by Cheryl Brown.
Word labels, left to right:
Aunt, Girl, Daughter, Cousin, Sister
White wording:
Two roads diverged in a wood and I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference. Robert Frost
The journaling is a poem I wrote called Alone:
A quiet whisper in the leaves, I walk a well-worn path, Yet I walk alone. Intricate and beautiful paths, They spider off of the path. I see many people disappear down the roads, Many people meander through multitudes of them, I continue down the well-worn path, Yet I walk alone. Sometimes I see people along my path, Yet I walk alone. The farther I go, the rougher the path, I realize many people havenít been this far, Fewer and fewer paths spider off my path, Less and less people are buzzing around me, The air is cooler here, leaves crunch under my boots, Occasionally people, one by one, come by me, We nod and smile, continuing alone. There are few of us, dispersed throughout the path. We help each other as the road becomes rougher, Overtaken by bramble, not having been trod upon in ages, We smile and help each other by, Sometimes we exchange a word or two, I donít think I ever learned their names though. Rare few pair up and set out side by side, stronger together, The rest of us walk alone. We are all together, separated only by steps on the road, Yet we walk alone. I walk alone.


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