I woke to morn, mouth open wide yet not in feathered bed but in a nest atop a tree and reaching toward the sky Perched high from ground to take the fruit wearing but my skin of birth abrupt and swiftly wisdom flowed… Continue Reading “The Nestling”
What words then do I write When the ink is not to trust? A plethora of letters yes! The thoughts, themselves, disgust. Do I have words left to say That will not cause alarm? Can I wake and try again The third, perhaps, a charm?… Continue Reading “Is the third time a charm?”
My charcoal sketch of Lizzie and me.
Compassion my sketch “after” Da Vinci
A bit of Louis and my own version of “It’s a Wonderful World” (Wanna know what these entries are about? Check out here.)