K. Wisendanger
Bio
A literary architect who builds worlds with words.
Stories (61/0)
Father Like Sun
My time is very limited during the day. Growing older is like darkness falling, I am getting older —gradually fading away. You are my daughter and my sky. My glow will always be felt and seen on Earth even though I am in the heavens, millions and millions of miles away.
By K. Wisendanger about a month ago in Poets
D.I.E. ( Deeper Into Existence)
Where life ends, is where another life begins. Life does not have a dead end. Life is a bridge; it connects to a road that never ends. There will come a day to where we all will face the loss of our loved ones, and best friends. But there is also a realm where we will all join, rejoice, embrace one another when we meet again.
By K. Wisendanger about a month ago in Poets
Moonpie Sonata
My tongue is engulfed in the enchanting taste of my grandparent’s ambrosian dish, the Moonpie Sonata. It is an eccentric recipe elegantly packed in a transparent, quaint, tall, drinking glass—as the recipe is incomplete without the glassware that houses this epic, dessert, extravaganza.
By K. Wisendanger 2 months ago in Poets