I have a good wife
She does not smoke, drink nor does she swear...
The Zipper Unzips to our imagination
Hushing our secret breath to taboo...
O the painter feels the old ache in his hands and reconsiders the sketches on his...
Guitars are brimming with soft, yet explosive, pinks; drum machines programmed to...
Via poetry, we share the gifts of the soul, and give spirit form.
smell the pollen the residue that the wind delivers to your senses
feel...
Tight rhythm section, in dynamic harmony, kind of like Motown.
Heightened emotions, blazing fury of wild guitar; dramatic feedback.
This canvas is daubed, in the blood of roses, and golden rays of moon. Waves of azure...
Poets are like matadors in a world Of dull, yet brutal, bulls. Their refined skills Can serve...
You speak with flourishen, She is always left questioning. You act as though the world cannot...
I am a Risk Taker If I succeed I will intentionally put additional obstacles...
Blazing scenes of plays in Time and out of season: Silver streams run wild; Spectacles...
Between glowing dew of dawn, and blood red sunset, poetry blossoms.
These colours and textures of paint that sing; These half-remembered dreams; this flowing light...
There was this dark old abandoned house with crumbled blinds in the windows The only one that passed...
