Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
His heart is not an instrument for my supple fingers to strum sweet lips are not a sacrament of divine grace which to succumb.
Do you know my voice as it calls to you deep in the blue-black night? I’ve searched so long but you, ever elusive as shadows dancing on a sunny day, out of reach, out of sight.
Cobble a melody with echoes of stones and bones a raucous music malady of haunting pounding tones.
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… Continue Reading “The Siamese on Catshole Lane”
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… Continue Reading “Thoughts From An Opal Child”
Almost 22 years ago, I married a wonderful man. At the time, I worked for a very large company based in Sweden. Anyone care to take a wild guess? It was my first week back from our honeymoon, and I had an important meeting… Continue Reading “The Meeting”
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