As I cross the bridge over the river, I know I’m almost home The changing leaves, their colors bright as if to welcome me back The two lane roads, the Amish buggies, the fields that span for miles The air so crisp and clean, I’m…

Listening Just be still and listen and then tell me what you hear Is the quiet all but deafening? Does it make you shed a tear? Does the silence bring you anger, for you need chaos throughout Or does it bring you worry, filling up…

I learned about an Elfchen poem from Donnetta Norris this past week. Here is one about walking from the last hour’s prompt. Stride to find all the hopes promised in arriving ready Strong

We are known as Pastafarians Our Quob is egalitarian Though some may view us as some crockery We’re serious with our mockery Since multi-universe works the best We leave to randomness all the rest Flying Spaghetti Monster doesn’t judge On this point we will never…