NAS  Prompt 2 I wake to a greeting: “Good Morning” I am a happy and devoted Child of God, and one of his gifts to me is a husband who greets me with words in a tone that is pleasant.   Later the day, a…

The fields of sunlight-green go on forever, The ancient arch reveals the rural scene Containing countless shades of blue and green Each leaf and blade of grass defined but never Destroying harmony with one another But delicately balancing between Variety and unity of mien A perfect patch of land, in…

Beyond the courtyard and beyond the gardens Lay the wall of stone that is hardened. Fashioned of stone, blood, sweat and tears, It is a monument of many past years.   Just beyond this ancient gate the real world is in await. Time moves forward…

Under triple suns we wait, amongst the trees below the mountain. Under seven skies we meet, across the savage garden.   Seek the orbs knowledge, mine the crystals of power. Bring for the Mystic, let her summon the power.   Create our daemon, let it…

The sun shines best through the cracks, through the tracks of the paths less taken. Shaken, we stir the breeze; ask the trees for ribbons of things we do not know. Throw us the glimmer of a day spent raising limbs, climbing something greater than…

My Dog, Alfred Fashioning himself as a gangsta, Alfred Hitchcock wears his gray hoodie whenever I take him for a walk through our local grave yard. He enjoys peeing on tombstones. An intimidating terrior with penetrating eyes and monolithic Easter-Island ears, he refrains from barking,…

Step out of the shadows. They’re not the night that hides you, and they’re not the light, that makes you shine. In the shadows you are not a rebel and not unseen, but perhaps unnoticed. Step through the gates, I know they appear narrow and…

It’s ninety degrees! You put clothes on a dog!? What kind of monster are you? He’s not gonna freeze! It’s not cute for your blog! And they don’t even match his shoes!

cathedral walls giving way to the sunlight… framing a warm June afternoon after a strong rain with thunderstorm… no more dust left not even the fluff from dandelions next to the crumbling walls… from last year no more raindrops lying down before my footsteps

A revival of the senses The warmth of the sun’s rays penetrating winter pale skin surrounded by a concrete fortress of my fears broken down by the triumphs and failures of risks a opening to a spring meadow stirring up a childlike gittiness to run…