Dandelion Some see a wish, some see a weed. Me? I see tiny white arms, reaching out for us as they blow by.     (This is the photo provided in the prompt that I chose to write about. A shadorma is a six line…

The blaze was lava alive Eating and laughing its winding dancing devious way through your life of things Just things Cry for your charred china Lament over your lost Lexus Search and sift through the ashes for family photos Forgotten faces in faded frames Burnt…

The first heart I ever broke was my own you could call it a ricochet I’ll go with stupid   though immature is a reasonable copout when I am feeling self-charitable   at nineteen, we were in love – not lust well defined lines obeyed…

It’s odd because, you see I’ve always kept my heart to me. I knew my body, heart and mind And handled love, cruel and kind With empathetic respect So no one would suspect That even the closest of affairs Ended and I didn’t care. Love…

Kept secret and safe. Written down for all time. The tomes of ideas are all mine.   I will protect what I create.