I have 3629 stories published in
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Her only words, the song of birds yet I’m convinced the Spring is right. She does not preach but strives to teach and civilize my heart with light. Her gentle flowers have greater power
The springtime is like a new birth held in the loving arms of Earth, with rosebuds for her pouting lips; pink flowered boughs, her fingertips; bluebells her eyes so bright and clear
Regally, like a queen, the beautiful baleen waves her tail up and down and makes a mellow cello sound. While, like in a ballet, her calf, around her, plays; he glides between her fins,
Desire is a creature that lives underground; in its long, dark tunnels it crawls all around. Some say it's a monster; some claim it’s not real and ignore that deep, gnawing desire they feel