It is an interesting crowd that inhabits a 24/7 diner at one in the morning. Gone are the families, the casual diners, the early bird specials, and what remains are those that night brings out.
There are some decades where it’s easier to define it musically than others. When you think of the 60s the Beatles might come to mind, or the 70s might instantly make you think of Led Zeppelin.
She smiles, when she sits down, to write. As a poem is a collection of perfect moments, of love, joy, and passion.
Owning a dog, is a series, of little joys. From watching her, make paw prints, in the sand, to letting the water, wash them away.
Writing is an act, of little things, A perfect puzzle of thoughts, and feelings, put together, stringing together letter,
The call of the wild is the voice of friend, carried on the whisper of wind as it flows, with the pine needles of the northern forest,
There are things in this world that can make you believe in magic. Moments truly special so hard to explain to ones who’ve never felt it.
In the summer, among the rain and sun, I spent a week in the forest, with the trees, the dewy moss, and the damp leaves, among the thickets and the glens,