In Appreciation of My "Gang"

It  has been a quiet, cold Sunday and I decided to do a post about my best friends/fellow writers that I dedicated my novella to.  Beverly, Edna, Jane and Pat.  I have been blessed to know them and be a part of their life.  I would not be here without them.  They have listened to me gripe, whine and bitch for years!  They've pulled me up when I was down and gave me a pat on the back when I deserved it.  I hope they all know how much I appreciate and love them for everything.  So, I am posting a little poem by Robert Frost in their honor. 

A Time To Talk

by

Robert Frost

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, 'What is it?'
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.