Some things end too soonOther things too lateEither way, their timereached an end.
A morning prayer, his mellow whisper. His smile is as young as he. Freckles in the sand, muffin in his hand. A gait, a zest, a cuddly…
A poem
Does the old maple not feel the wonder of its first leaf each spring?Does a grandmother not shine at seeing her…
Let these words fall from my soul. The night is so quiet tonight. The loneliness is heavy. My…