The crystal rags
of a worn-through soul.
Deep swan song
of a dying dream.
Some women (and men) stand up for their convictions whatever the consequences. Thus it was with Vashti. I believe she may have been t...
Border Line I used to wonder About living and dying- I think the difference lies Between tears and crying. I used to wonder Abo...
I meet strangers all the time, but they do not often stay strangers. Frequently they become friends. Even those people that I meet ...
Happiness is sitting in the evening sunshine watching a vixen and her three cubs playing in the hedges. The cubs play with each other and r...
We know that we’re all different, but the joy of knowing that doesn’t make us want to be too different from the rest of the crowd so tha...