Rolling Hills  and cedar trees. that’s our meeting place,  where we dance with abandon,  running towards each other frantically. Rolling down over rolling hills Dancing naked around bonfires you strum your guitar   and utter my name  and it sounds like a song. The sweetest lie…

Blissfull fireflies Dance in the rain Watching you go No longer in pain A moment in time Captured Like a butterfly Emerging from its cocoon Seasons change, and end Only to begin again Your soul forever near Appearing unexpectedly As a rainbow in the rain…

I wait outside the door I listen to the sobs inside The door is locked, I cannot come in Let me in, baby girl Let me say it will be alright

The infamous song prompt! I get so nervous every year when I post this one. The idea is to listen to this song while writing or before writing, whichever works best with your process.

A red brick facade, a stately double door Curios adorning the walls, crystal chandeliers shining down The warm glow from the fireplace with armchairs completing the look The open, inviting kitchen where meals are cooked with love The cozy library in the corner with a hundred…

Don’t lock me out I just want in. I want us to be more than friends. I know it’s hard for you to trust in love when all you’ve known is lust. I’m not here to rob you blind. I only want a peek inside….

It tastes like grit against your teeth and ash upon your tongue. It feels a lot like broken bones  and torn muscles from a boxing fight. Humiliating, Pitiful endless agony, and a learning curve Feels like being stuck  with no way to make a way….

The elf’s dwelling is something to witness It has its tiny windows and small doors But more than that, it has a miniscule kitchen A child’s tale has spilled into the real world The crafted tables and chairs highlight The woodworking merit of the little…

Bright, vibrant colors Swirling and encircling Seeing Mommy Through to the end Squeals of delight Announces There is no better place To be than Through the tunnel. Except, Sometimes, It’s better to stop and tease and wait. Mom smiles, Doubt vanishes. Crawling slows to a…

We raced through the jungle trails on a motorcycle, faceless men, clad in black, chasing us. Throwing stars at us from their Ducati’s, you were finally saving me. We spun around a corner, your father’s houseboat docked within the marsh. Safety, at last! There was…