Something I wrote this week. I enjoy sharing my unedited musings with you. Part of me wishes I could craft perfectly written stories that grab you by the throat, but sometimes I write because I like the way something feels. That’s enough. Mature content! Reader discretion is advised. — A taste Of my honey I’d …
A little afternoon poetry prompted by the The Sunday Whirl. — As I traverse sunny streets I think of you Your shadow walks beside me, your memory an apparition The march of time gone by echoes like the tap of my high heels on cobblestone The whistle of an arriving train reminds me that things …