Hidden Letters, Part 6. Strong and proud, I hold up the drapery. That keeps the elements out of your room. For a hint towards your next step,. Please check the hollow at my side. Hidden Letters, Part 5. The gardener told me a little about the family who lived here before me. Squeaking, I move back and forth. While staying in the same place,.

Tarot inspired essays and more. In The City Of Amsterdam. The Fault in Our Stars. I was hanging around the Waterlooplein.

Stories from the city, stories from the sea. As the last of the light lingers on the rim. The suitors of the sunshine scuttle meekly to their chambers. To the dark through the dusk the day turns dim. And our colour inside also changes. A wonder creeps in through the cracks. On those resolved, unmoved to cower. Under threats of falling thermostats. To brave the cold unfolding hours. So picnic blankets turn to cloaks. Sweatshirt sleeves stretch into mittens.

Ponderings, Poetry and Prose.

Originally posted on Dancing Echoes. Gnarled old vines twist and turn. Jammy dark fruit, chocolate. Theatre played in grape and vine. When Brix was running peak. In all its sublime sweetness.

Around this time, every year, I get a little nostalgic. The end of a year always makes me a little gloomy. I look back and reflect on events and experiences that took place throughout the year, however trivial but made an impact on me and changed the way I think. Morning to attend the orientation with.

You met some amazing people and you were filled with so much happiness and joy. You were then once again. How can such a simple thing feel so complicated? When will I feel alive again? That immediate need of Change, and Death.

So, I walked into the house the other morning, still not completely awake and literally tripped over a chicken.

Just the explanation of poetry I was in search of. Thank you, Cookie! You have been quiet lately. Thanks for asking about me. Och, you poor lamb. Amazing, Thank you for writing which is quite good and best wishes always, and greetings.