I have been reading a wonderful book by Maeve Haran, The Lady and the Poet. It's about John Donne, who I must admit I have a bit of a lit nerd crush on, and his wife, Ann More. Re-reading many of my favorite poems by this wonderful poet has me thinking about love, life, and eternity. … Continue reading Singular.
Grief
Written 4/17/17 - Infertility is a silent thief. It will rob you of your joy, your passion, and your love of life. It will hold your hand and walk you through the stages of grief one after another, again, again, and again. However, unlike other forms of grief, you are expected to continue life as … Continue reading Grief
I am an author.
I am an author. I have to reaffirm that to myself almost daily. As I have stated many times before in this blog, I love writing. I love words. I have written out of joy, I have written out of curiosity, I have written out of absolute emotional agony. But I have yet to really … Continue reading I am an author.
Latest in SkinWalker
On the plus side... I finished most of that silly Kimono last night. On the down side... I broke my machine's needle working on the matching obi tonight. *sigh* I suppose it's off to the store tomorrow to buy some needles now. I am going to have to re-evaluate the necessity of boning in an … Continue reading Latest in SkinWalker
Happiness and some words…
I was a heavy heart to carry My beloved was weighed down My arms around his neck My fingers laced to crown. Life isn't what I thought it would be when I was little. I mean, don't get me wrong, I never imagined what my wedding would be like as a child. I never daydreamed … Continue reading Happiness and some words…
Prayer Cycle
Do you ever lie in the dark, able to feel the presence of the person next to you, longing for them to reach out and touch you? Praying for the feeling of their skin against yours? Aching for the smallest hint of human affection? Yet, nothing comes... only the seeming eternal darkness as the space … Continue reading Prayer Cycle
Muddled Mind
I have written words of a demon tied to a hunter, of a shark drawn to a dolphin, and of a reaper caring for a fox. But they were all short and void of the feelings I wanted.
The Beginning…
Sometimes I feel as though I would float away into my imagination if I weren't securely anchored to my body.
Hollow Words 