On this hot and humid midsummer’s eve the river calls to me as bullfrogs croak in a throaty bass while a whippoorwill sings in the trees. Advertisements
free spirit soaring
The sacred truth, now broken as lies spill from his lips his tongue blood-red and thick with the stain of wine
scorching desert sun
She lives on Catshole Lane with all the common cats on the Isle of Man. She’s beautiful, hot and exotic, a pure Siamese with almond-shaped eyes as blue as the sea and a long graceful tail. She, an outsider shunned by all the…
When the willows weep at night they call to the flower moon Come and spread your light through our slender tendrils as beetles scurry underfoot banish the deepening gloom.
As I grow older, time is racing by, as if I am on a high-speed train barreling towards the end of my life. One minute, I am turning a page in the calendar and greeting a new month, and the next a new year…