This is my place, my story, family, poems, paintings and hobbies come stay awhile.

I can remember my youngest son Doug who was 5 then, saying to us one day " family is everything ! right dad?"

Oh how true that statement is.

Ron and I have been married for 43 years now. We have 3 wonderful adult children who in their own way each make us very proud.

Christine is the oldest and has given us our grand daughter . Shandra is now 22. Christine & Glenn have been married for 4 years and she owns a very successful roofing company G & C  Roofing INC . Glenn is her biggest fan and hardest working employee.

Terry our oldest son is a computer genius and works in California. His hobby is drawing and what an artist. His partner David also is in the computer field. Both are extremely talented.

Our youngest and the " family is everything!" son Doug is now married to a wonderful girl, Linda. Both are in the welding field and have been married 3 years  and are the proud parents of our grandson Ronald Douglas.

There is not a parent in this world that could be any prouder than Ron & I.

As in laws we have truly been blessed. Glenn, David, & Linda are without the doubt the most wonderful additions to our family we love them as our own.

Here is a picture Ron drew when he was younger.

In the pages following you  will find some of the many poems I have written over the last 50 years.

I hope you will find at least one that will warm your heart.

This Is My favourite Poem I wrote when I was just 19

"My Love Was Like A Rosebud"

My love was like a rosebud,

kissed by morning dew,

It's fragrance is so fresh like the love I gave to you.

And like that tiny rosebud,

So delicate and small,

With just a little love and care,

The petals would not fall.

But pluck it from it's stem,

You could almost hear it cry,

It's as if that tiny rosebud,

Knows that it will die.

My love was once that easy 

To crush, to wither and kill,

But you put a fence around me,

And here I'm growing still.

Bur some of my tiny petals,

Are a little worse for wear,

My stem leans over slightly,

And thorns are growing there.

I no longer sway so freely 

in the gentle summers breeze,

All my petals now are open,

There are holes now in my leaves.

But unlike that tiny rosebud,

I have someone to care,

Although I'm worn and tattered,

I know he's always there.

Chris Hannon