her promise

I talk of saxifrage, the flower that breaks the rocks, and she is eager to know more. . .

'Be you, be a rose!' - I tell her, it takes as much to grow through your thorns.

faint fragrance

through the morning mist 

the faint fragrance of roses 

from within the leaves 

of yesterdays,

how far have we come, 

how much have we lost 

on the way?

sea tells

skeins of rain

Each new day brings its own story. . .Into each life some rain must fall ~

old dreams

Ah, to brush up childhood dreams. . .

day upon day

day upon day

a new year quietly unfolds,

surprisingly, there is 

nothing to resolve

just a few words seeking home. . .

I hold them like my own