Did you know that whenever you buy anything online – from your weekly shop to your annual holiday – you could be raising free donations for Emerald Book Club CIC with easyfundraising?
There are over 8,000 retailers on board ready to make a donation – including eBay, Argos, John Lewis & Partners, ASOS, Booking.com and M&S – and it won’t cost you a penny extra to help us raise funds.
2. Every time you shop online, go to easyfundraising first to find the site you want and start shopping.
3. After you’ve checked out, the retailer will make a donation to Emerald Book Club CIC at no extra cost to you whatsoever! There are no catches or hidden charges and Emerald Book Club CIC will be really grateful for your donations. Thank you for your support.
Raise Free Donations for Emerald Book Club
Raise FREE donations for Emerald Book Club CIC EVERY time you shop online using @easyuk. Over 8,000 retailers will donate including all the big names like eBay, ASOS, Expedia, M&S, Just Eat, Uswitch and more! Visit: https://t.co/CMfOZ14t9I
Hi there! Please remember to use easyfundraising EVERY time you shop online. Over 8,000 brands will donate to Emerald Book Club CIC for FREE when you use easyfundraising to shop with them, so you can support us no matter what you’re buying! If you haven’t signed up yet, it’s easy and completely FREE. Visit: https://www.easyfundraising.org.uk/causes/emerald-book-club/
Our purple fingered teacher passed Out sheets that smelled of alcohol. Our kindergarten class was told To crayon in all train car bars Or else our tigers might escape. The choice of tiger stripes we made Was any color that we liked, But smeared unless you shaded close But not across the black wax bars. We muddied all attempts at art.
I tried again, ignoring rules And even lines defining car, And tiger, railroad wheels of steel. I even asked for crayons in Our teacher’s special crayon box: Illuminating Emerald, B’Dazzled Blue, and Alloy Orange. Not only had my cat escaped, But lost himself inside a scene Of psychedelic jungle light.
Retirement is like my pre- School was with tiny painting jobs, Naps every afternoon before A story time I write myself: Where children breathe in evergreens And tread a gently thistled earth. Where lakes are glazed too perfectly And tempt them into skipping stones To break the sun to splintered glass With flashes, all di min ish ing.
Purple as tulips in May, mauve into lush velvet, purple as the stain blackberries leave on the lips, on the hands, the purple of ripe grapes sunlit and warm as flesh.
Every day I will give you a color, like a new flower in a bud vase on your desk. Every day I will paint you, as women color each other with henna on hands and on feet.
Red as henna, as cinnamon, as coals after the fire is banked, the cardinal in the feeder, the roses tumbling on the arbor their weight bending the wood the red of the syrup I make from petals.
Orange as the perfumed fruit hanging their globes on the glossy tree, orange as pumpkins in the field, orange as butterflyweed and the monarchs who come to eat it, orange as my cat running lithe through the high grass.
Yellow as a goat’s wise and wicked eyes, yellow as a hill of daffodils, yellow as dandelions by the highway, yellow as butter and egg yolks, yellow as a school bus stopping you, yellow as a slicker in a downpour.
Here is my bouquet, here is a sing song of all the things you make me think of, here is oblique praise for the height and depth of you and the width too. Here is my box of new crayons at your feet.
Green as mint jelly, green as a frog on a lily pad twanging, the green of cos lettuce upright about to bolt into opulent towers, green as Grand Chartreuse in a clear glass, green as wine bottles.
Blue as cornflowers, delphiniums, bachelors’ buttons. Blue as Roquefort, blue as Saga. Blue as still water. Blue as the eyes of a Siamese cat. Blue as shadows on new snow, as a spring azure sipping from a puddle on the blacktop.
Cobalt as the midnight sky when day has gone without a trace and we lie in each other’s arms eyes shut and fingers open and all the colors of the world pass through our bodies like strings of fire.
If only life was a colouring book by John Edward Smallshaw
..and then we could colour in, madly fall fuller in and because colouring can be erased we can do it for days and days and if the years pass me by I'll just colour me one more blue sky.
Dot to dot's duller we only need colour and crayon to make a day go on I'll vote for that.
life is a colouring book People are the crayons Experiences are the various Shades of those crayons Live life to the fullest Do it with your friends and family Fill in that colouring book And don't be afraid To go outside of the lines