What a Wonderful World

I've been humming my favorite song all day.  What a Wonderful World was written for me, I just know it.  It was certainly written for a day like today--beautiful blue sky, nice temperature, low humidity (a gift in August in the midwest).  And I just found out one of the writers of my favorite song, George David Weiss, passed away. 

I think the ability to write songs is such a gift. I am not a songwriter.  I wish I was.  For some reason, on those rare occasions I've tried to write a song, it comes out very 1st graderish with every line rhyming:

I'm so in love with you,
Thank God you don't have the flu.

Okay, not quite that bad, but close.  Regardless, it's easy to see why I appreciate good songs.  The ability to express what others think or feel or go through to the point where it spurs them into action, or to tears, or just makes them smile is a gift.  Not everyone has that gift, but I can certainly appreciate those who do. (And, for the record, I am so in love with my husband, and I really am thankful he doesn't have the flu.)


What a Wonderful World

I see trees of green, red roses, too.
I see them bloom for me and you.
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue, clouds of white,
Bright blessed days, and dark sacred nights.

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky,
Are also on the faces of people going by.
I see friends shaking hands, saying "How do you do?"
They're really saying, "I love you."

I hear babies crying,

I watch them grow.

They'll learn much more

Than I'll ever know.

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world. 

I think to myself, what a wonderful world. Oh yeah.

Rest in peace, Mr. Weiss.  It really is a wonderful world.  Thanks for the reminder.