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Unique in its character, Impressions Along the Way, combines Dave's poems and Bob's watercolors. The book offers a glimpse of thoughts, feelings, and experiences – impressions – in that great adventure of life. It is based not only on actual happenings, but also on the perception, interpretation, and processing of those happenings. It is meant for children and adults alike. Share it as a gift, place it on your den or living room "coffee table," read it to the kids at bedtime, or use it as a source of meditative calm and enjoyment.
Just as this book has helped us to become better friends by understanding ourselves and each other through artistic expression, we hope that it brings you joyous impressions "along the way." Enjoy!
Bob is a lifelong artist. His water color paintings are deeply thoughtful and stunningly embellish Dave's poems. Contact him at Robert82@Cox.net
Dave loves wordsmithing and rhyming. His poems are clever and creative expressions of his perceptions and experiences. Contact him at David@DavidFares.com
Dave Fares and Bob Chisholm met in high school and have been friends for over 50 years. After they retired, they were able to spend more time doing what they loved. One was good with words and one was good with art. They decided to collaborate on a project where each could bring their particular talent together to create something special
Dave Fares and Bob Chisholm met in high school and have been friends for over 50 years. After they retired, they were able to spend more time doing what they loved. One was good with words and one was good with art. They decided to collaborate on a project where each could bring their particular talent together to create something special. Unique in its character, this book, combining Dave's poems and Bob's watercolors is the result of that collaboration.
Just a hum, high in the sky,
A plane looks down on harbor sails.
Below the sun is cleansing warm
As finches whistle pleasant tales.
...
It's just a day in old Grant Park,
Like others that have gone before.
But as I sit and hear and see,
No other like this day can be.
Grass won't grow on a busy street.
I think things out clear and neat.
That's how come I lost my hair,
In case you ask why it's not there
...
Only the virile go bald you see.
And I'm as robust as can be.
Pluck your hairs out one by one,
And you'll too see that bald is fun!
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