The Strawberry Festival is coming! On Saturday, June 1st the Village Mill Neighborhood Association will celebrate the start of summer with our annual neighborhood festival for members and guests. Come down to the Village Mill pool parking lot (4726 Olde Village Lane, Dunwoody 30338) from 10:00 am-1:00 pm for food, fun, and games. Attractions this year include a Bounce House, Dunk Tank, Kids’ Market, Silent Auction, Raffle, Kid’s Raffle, Book Sale, Bake Sale, and lots of delicious food! Just for Kids raffle–kid’s gift certificates, toys, games, and much more. Raffle–theme baskets, single items, services and more. Silent Auction–sports tickets, dinners, gift cards and more. Silent auction will be open through the evening and the highest bidders will be notified. Free admission, nominal charges for food and activities.
Contact:
Erin Barrett(201)513-3405
erin9404@yahoo.com
6 comments:
Thoughtful Voyeur: Woman and Cantaloupe
Watch her select it
over sassier summer
fruits, carved offerings
of purple, yellow,
red in a supermarket
stunned with
fluorescent light.
Seeing her slice it open,
ponder how the melon
secrets its exquisite
pastel beneath a rough,
webby exterior, silent
protest to the showy
outer life of
its every former
neighbor – apple,
banana, strawberry, grape.
Later on, recall
the knife's decisiveness,
the sudden exposure of
such a pleasing hue,
its juicy glisten
brightening, gladdening
her stark white kitchen
with a brief and modest blush.
- Cindy Gregg
DOTP - Would this not be better suited for you????
Evening Hawk
From plane of light to plane, wings dipping through Geometries and orchids that the sunset builds,
Out of the peak's black angularity of shadow, riding The last tumultuous avalanche of Light above pines and the guttural gorge,
The hawk comes.
His wing Scythes down another day, his motion Is that of the honed steel-edge, we hear The crashless fall of stalks of Time.
The head of each stalk is heavy with the gold of our error.
Look! Look! he is climbing the last light Who knows neither Time nor error, and under Whose eye, unforgiving, the world, unforgiven, swings Into shadow.
Long now, The last thrush is still, the last bat Now cruises in his sharp hieroglyphics. His wisdom
Is ancient, too, and immense. The star Is steady, like Plato, over the mountain.
If there were no wind we might, we think, hear The earth grind on its axis, or history Drip in darkness like a leaking pipe in the cellar.
Robert Penn Warren
The Hawk Pixel Vendetta
Once in a burgh so delightful,
Argued two souls - A Vendetta Frightful,
They pitch, they yaw, they stalk,
The object of their derision - A Hawk!
O Yea, Dunwoody, her generous heart, her spirit so delightful,
Will she ever tire of the one's most spiteful?
- Tow Longfellow
DOTP - Max - Colleen - Alister - GaryRayBetz - dgroupie - nellie - @dunwoodyleaks - @dunwoodydumass - @dumwoody - @viewfromwise - what`s in a name when the name is all the same...
"How to Treat a Stranger's Bipolar Disorder"
Disavow their tight steely grip.
Know their acrid metallic smell
Is lightening well-commenced to impel.
Hang-up on their castigating phone rants.
Ignore when they say you are
What they actually are.
When they remove their white hood,
Let a nurse untangle their matted hair - don't you!
If they push, then do shove!
Remember, their stalking is not love.
- Daughter of the Poet
She was Mentally Ill
The young woman hung around the airport for
two days,
raving about the price of gasoline,
bumping her shins,
cutting herself,
making crude
comments,
and screaming at red caps, ticket agents,
a baby,
and a blind man.
The police took her into custody,
held her overnight and
released her into a caring and
ministering neighborhood,
where things turned even
worse.
- Daughter of the Poet
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