within the garden of being, I am but a fleeting firefly, my verses mere whispers in the night. I am the dewdrop on the petal of time, glistening for a moment, then vanishing into the embrace of dawn

I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.

When Franz Kafka said: “i cannot make you understand. i cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. i cannot explain it to myself”

The gender neutral urge to create something that will outlast you even after death, even after your name is forgotten so that you’ll live on forever in the art you left behind and emotionally connect to people long after death.

"Anyone who cares about you has to realize that you need a little looking after."

"August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time."

Home with my Husband