"Twas the morning....

'Twas the morning before school, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even "my" mouse;
I've got to get going, I thought, as I flopped,
in the comfy old chair with my open laptop;

The words only trickled and were random at best,
But challenging myself, I was up for the test;
I tapped at the keys with a confident pace,
Just to backspace and edit, correct, and erase;

Yes, slicing was daunting first thing in the day,
but things could be worse, is what I always say;
As I sit here this morning, I happy to write,
for I know it's much easier than writing at night.

Her Horror.....

She woke suddenly, heart pounding; frozen with fear.  Paralyzed by the extent of her own anxiety, she closed her eyes and attempted to pray.

She had eluded it for awhile.....but now, abandoned by sleep,  the comforting rhythm of the old wooden clock seemed to mock her with every tick and chime.  Anxiously, she  counted the hours 'til daybreak....

Like a thief in the night it had crept stealthily, into her sleep, stealing away her one chance for solace. Dreams transformed into nightmares...

Her horror was only beginning.....

Finding the key

 I knew it was a dream,

I kept thinking about words I wanted to remember, to share, a story that needed to be told. As my dream faded I fought to hang on to each and every memory, I clung to words that faded one by one... nothingness, never to be revealed ..... disheveled......intensely beautiful eyes that need no color, loneliness.....one by one....meaningless words, nameless pictures, beautiful apparitions.

Locked within our dreams is a magic to behold. Tales of pain and glory; words of wisdom. The task is to find the key and never let it go.   I'm sure of this. If only we can learn to capture them...

I was wrong!

I wrote it, I read it, I loved it.
Not too long
Not too short
Not too deep
Peppered with a perfect balance of  humor and mystery
Surely, I thought, 
Others will love it too.
I was wrong.....

I wrote it, I read it, I hated it
The epitome of "bleh".
I cringed at the choices I'd made
Boring, vapid, lackluster words
The best I could conjure not good enough
Surely, I thought,
Others will hate it too
Again, I was wrong.

Intuitively we know....

Intuitively we knew.....

The bond was there from the moment we met. A mutual recognition, too tangible to ignore, hung perceptibly in the air. Inexplicably, we connected, no need to converse.  A silent recognition that shall not be broken.

Untainted by words or reduced by logic,  it  transcends all limits of  the imagination, allowing only the integrity of truth to shine through.

No, it cannot be proven, nor does it matter. For connected souls are eternal, silence is golden, and

Intuitively we know......

AHHHHHH.....

Stepping into the veil of blackness, familiarity guides my slippered feet effortlessly down the shadowy staircase to my favorite morning spot. Sinking into the overstuffed chair, I luxuriate in the pleasant fogginess of  my sleepy brain as it gently dissipates into the pre-dawn stillness I've come to cherish.

These moments are precious, pure, but oh, so brief. Outside, the sounds of a waking world are beginning to filter in.  SIGH.

With a final stretch, I rise, my pup Misty following close at my heels.

And so it begins.....

As is our routine, coffee in hand, I watch as she squeezes, tail wagging wildly, through a barely open door. Wrapped in my robe, I hug myself tightly and inhale. The sweet briskness of morning air gives me an exhilarating jolt, as my eyes scan for the last remnants of twilight.

Above the rooftops, all signs of the darkness have disappeared; Replaced with colors unique only to God's palette, gloriously infused with golden hues, fresh hopes, and promises of new beginnings.....

 AHHHHH...... MORNING!!! Don't you just love it??????????

disintegrating memories

Who will ever know the wisdom you possess?

Illegible scrawls randomly scattered

Sacred messages, cryptically inscribed

Artistic interpretations of love and light

pain and darkness living and losing

Intricately bound,

you're private graffiti

created from a heart for purpose of posterity,

imploring to be read

but instead
tucked away in darkness
you are lost...

damp, dusty, curled and withering

forgotten
a lifetime of love
poured onto pages
disintegrating memories

never to be revealed