He gathered thread from the twilit sky. The warp and weft of passing time. A sturdy frame of promises,. A treadle made of dreams. Their hands stained royal blue as they. Spread the cloth beneath the moon and. Worked into the night,. Cutting shapes more careful than. Constellations, stitching seam to seam of. Infinity bound up on his shoulders,. Settled at their waists,. Wisdom of good age,.

Sunday, July 12, 2015. There are several beginnings to this story. One might say that the very beginning began several years ago. For now, let us start by saying that I was late getting on the plane. Do you want me to fall asleep on this date? .

Subscribers also have the option of adding information to their images. Preferred information include a brief description of the photo or the geographical location where the photo was taken. The option that most subscribers like is sharing photo on other social networks other than Instagram.

Monday, February 16, 2015. That Post That Was A Poem. Inspiration struck- I typed, this is the result. A lonely poem posted out of the blue because well. I had to! Shall I say of myself I long to be unhappy. Shall I say that happiness. Like cheap gum loses its flavor quickly. That to be happy for one moment too long. That sadness and discord of the soul.