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1. Please decide the key messages that you would like to include....
2. ...then choose which package you would prefer
3. ..and please complete the
4. Once you have placed your refundable deposit,
I will complete your first draft within 2 -7 days, depending on the package you have chosen.
The draft is sent via e-mail. 5. You get the chance to review your poem, maybe sharing it with family and friends for their opinion. 6. I then incorporate your comments and thoughts into a new draft. 7. Steps 5 + 6 are repeated until you are totally satisfied with the outcome. 8. Once the final draft is agreed upon, you choose the style of card you would like your poem presented in.
9. Your gift is then packaged and shipped express worldwide.
Options are sent via e-mail)
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Morning for Roger
Roger liked to play guitar, but he couldn't play very well so he sometimes hung around the few of us who thought we could teach him something. We couldn't. It wasn't that he was incapable. We just sucked.
Roger liked to laugh and always had a joke to tell while making his rounds as the Auxiliary Electrician, as they like to say in the Navy, when a guy is non-nuclear trained, but is an electrician.
Roger liked to play Hearts and used to deal the cards to the early hours of the morning, though morning is just a figment of your imagination when you ride a submarine for a living.
Roger was never pretentious even though he was his group's Leading Petty Officer, as they like to say in the Navy, when a guy is a supervisor. He just lived his life and laughed his laugh and everyone enjoyed his company.
Roger was out on the town one night, laughing his laugh and enjoying life, and decided to go across the street with the rest of his buddies and subordinates, as they like to say in the Navy, when a guy hangs out with friends who happen to have a lesser rank than him.
Roger never saw the headlights of the car as he was crossing the road in the small Georgia town of Kings Bay where the USS Casimir Pulaski was docked for refit, as they like to say in the Navy, when a guy works with his friends to make a submarine ready to destroy the world.
Roger died there in the street.
Then the sun came up the next morning, though mourning is just a figment of your imagination when you ride a submarine for a living. Copyright Greg Weaver 2000 |
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