Bring on the green powers of spring. . .
You robe your human muse in imagined fabrics, designed from the patterns of lichens and mosses . . .
Rachel continued to stare at the key for a few moments. That morning, when she sat down with the heavy book, which still lay on her lap, it had been her intent to discover what the book held in its pages but the key made her even more curious.
Rachel already knew which book she was going to take down from the shelves. She had been waiting to read it until a day when her parents were sure to be away from the house for several hours.
Her father’s death had been sudden. Her raw grief had subsided. Her curiosity was now strong enough to explore the books in the cabinet in his study. Rachel went to … Continue reading Her Father’s Letter
John is absorbed in, enveloped by, the music. The orchestral sounds fill the house. They surround him, comfort him, cloak him, just as the heat and humidity of the mid-summer … Continue reading The Introduction
What if the quirky, eccentric phrases which usually appear in the morning are part of a puzzle to be solved?
She taught you to listen to the winds, the birds, the trees. . . .She remains the mystery . . . .