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Christmases Past
Lifetimes lived secreted behind the wooly frames of memory. We jog the frames of Christmases past. Scents of pine boughs and holly berries, mince pies and cranberries. Sounds of apple crisp snow and crackling fires, and laughter. And the sound of silence, as love stretches through all dimensions to encircle Thee and Me. As real,…
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Times Such As These
I lock up the room after filing the last remnants of words laying about unattended. Fearful that pieces of my heart may be found scattered among them. And why not? Times such as these leave us with little salve to heal the open wounds which once were hearts. For whom do we weep? The children…
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Kiss The Moon Arrives!
I am pleased to do this post because today we picked up the books, Kiss The Moon, A Woman Speaks And Gives Grace, from the printers and this weekend I will package and send out those that have been ordered. And for the readers in England who have wished for my books, I will be…