Inspiring
Poetry & Blogs
Poetry
Shorn Locks
He was five, and I was three, he led, I followed, a happy me. Carried out a stool and sat me down. Under the Lilac
Poetry
Window Kisses
The moonlight is reflecting off the ground below, welcoming window kisses in the glistening glow. A little hand on the window frame, a tiny face
Poetry
Gramp
A man of great height, a gentleman, caressed a broken little soul, with his big ole hands. Embracing her with his arms, he did hold.
Short Story
Metamorphosis
To me, the word ‘Metamorphosis’ is a colorful melodic noun that has awakened the vocality of my studdering impediment.’ Today’s the day I change and
