Childhood

Into The World

Young Adulthood

Settling In

At Last

Thoughts?





My writing desk.

Bulletin/white board with quotes, inspirations, bit and pieces of art.

Sharpies and such…

Corkboard and creative accroutrements.

My drafting table / work surface.

Where do you do your thing?

I used to sleep like a sheet of fine writing paper tucked in an embossed, foil-lined envelope.
In the morning, I’d slide on out. Not a rumple or a wrinkle, not a single twist or turn.
Slick hand over coverlet. Bed made. Tidy life. Done.
Growing accustomed to you and your cuddle-close, roust-about, pull-it-from-the-bed frame ways took some doing.
Making the bed the next morning was a lot more work.
Now
When you’re not here, the sheets stay tucked. Not a rumple or a wrinkle, not a twist or a turn.
And in the morning, my heart’s pulled from its own lone frame.
Making that right is a lot more work.

Mine are the Master’s hands.
I choose bitter or sweet.
Mine, the choice to be made.
My expectations to meet.
Blossom, bloom, perfume, bear fruit.
Judgment, resentment, contention? Moot.
Unless I embrace them.
It’s up to me.
I AM, you see.
So are you.
Whatcha gonna do?
It’s about LOVE.
Unconditional LOVE.
And having a really good time.
Really.
♥~♥~♥
Don’t believe me?
Check it out…
