Baiting her line with incantationsshe casts her spell… imaginesan ocean of possibilitiesready to nibble at her bidding As if words hold swayand patience, power; believes right intent is lure enoughto reel in destiny, determine fate. (Rewrite of piece formerly entitled ‘Fishing’.Image my own. Perhaps a silly goose?)
Trade you an ‘n’for a ‘v’, I saidto the moonto the sunto the birdat my window All obligedand nowmy lonely dayis lovely,lovely,lovely. (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @VjknutsonArt my own.)
Service contentmentBe a vessel –giving and receivingCreate ripplesInspireBe presentPush through limitsBe bliss spreadingviral joy (I’ve started a new project: reading through old journals – mostly griping – to find new messages, new poetry.This is my first result. Image my own.)
there is something about an older truck that makes me happy………..i know this is weird but they always make me smile!
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VJ, I put my comment here to assure Wendi her sentiment is not weird. People that own trucks tend to take care of them and they last. They may be mud stained and weathered, but the engine runs better than the outside looks. To me, what you said is a good metaphor. Keith
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I LOVE this Keith, thank you so much for taking time to comment because I have never understood my true deep love for old trucks! 🙂 I hope your day is bless Keith!
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Wendi, VJ, it may not just be trucks. I had a coffee with an old friend and was asking him about a seventeen-year old Volvo he had about ten years ago. Guess what? He still has it. Keith
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Maybe it’s that it hung in there so long…like us (well me, anyway)….lol
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maybe that is it VJ! 🙂 🙂 I hope to own an old truck someday…….
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I’m particuarly drawn to the second photo. That landscape has stories to tell.
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Doesn’t it! Thanks Liz.
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You’re welcome, VJ.
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