Distance, not mere word kills me like sword. Feelings desire for him needs want him craves search him, at last its only dark and grim. The roses, deep in my pages finds him missing the way he is kissing. Distance remains the same stupid, quiet…

Following Hour 7’s Prompt (2020) ”Season of the Dream” by H.J ©️   The winds of change are brewing – Trading out Fall’s leaves for Summer’s dew; but playing roulette with a virus or two! Summer’s dream is not how it seems; But delays don’t…

The corners of my mouth lift slightly, long before my eyes sense the dance of daybreak. Sweet voices on my windowsill. Younger ones reply, eagerly awaiting something squirmy Ground beans releasing their nutty aroma Hiss and gurgle into the pot beneath Bacon spitting at potatoes…

Lost and Redemption of a Life Ann WJ White Awakening the morning, waiting for it to rise, I follow a small tortiseshelled cat to her breakfast, carefully apportioned puree of chicken served on a glass dish, glistening. She is the reason for rising, for dancing,…

  It’s a perfect day with grandkids around. Only a grandma truly loves the sound.   When one starts talking then another one too. Total mayhem what’s a grandma to do?   But don’t look stressed or confused you know. Or the kids will think,…

He wakes in early afternoon, washes his face, pokes around in the fridge – doesn’t eat, lumbers to the ps and sofa, yawns, starts it all up. (Summer schedule.). He is big, tall. He hasn’t caught up to himself, probably won’t  for a few years….

All Roads Lead To Broadway A soft cool breeze … as I step outside to the fresh spring day! The smell of New York City … from Central Park. Green trees and chirping birds … A song of joy … A song of life! Walking…

The day is filled with joy and laughter Children are running around the compound with careless abandon The women of the house roam the garden and stop to smell the flowers The drizzling rain envelops leaves   The rain increases its intensity and turns into…

The mindless serenity of unsatisfying indulgence and the haughty want that pretends to be the origin of all art. Call it a love song, the birds chirping screaming in the morning wings beating claws scraping a brief burst of violence called a moment of passion….

Night has always been so boring unless you touched my body, where your cuddle is soothing makes my heart hooting. The night brings screams of love you kiss me most, the way hate is lost. Flight is your and mine I want all nights just…