A Priesting at Westminster
Will you still love me tomorrow?
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- 571 reads
The thistle
The thistle is sweet Nature’s kiss; epistle of electric bliss. When life feels like a hammer fist; her lips shine like an amethyst. The thistle will, from morn to moon
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- 644 reads
Say nothing.
Say yes, say no, those words no-longer hold any meaning, not the way they used to, anyway. Remember what the sky looked like when we first met?
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- 445 reads
In The Mirror
Who’s to blame? For if we could not see If we did not know The face that faced the world We would only know What lay beneath, The smile, the dimple, the frown What could we tell?
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- 551 reads
The Super Market
Not what I expected.
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- 834 reads
random
random work order, read you runes and have a rant.
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- 9 comments
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- 2230 reads
Buttercups
In a field of golden buttercups I watch the sun at play dancing on there little petals with there golden rays as I watch them gently sway in the soft summer wind oh that golden haze
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- 360 reads
More notes from a Harley
Sometimes it seems that happiness is as simple as these three things: sunshine, a full tank of fuel and a sweet running motor. It feels like that today.
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- 892 reads
Safe
Fleeting bouts of relief seem worth the clouds of doubt that cast my future.
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- 278 reads