A Place for Visual Creativity. To join in click here. B and W Portraits of Women. Portrait of Woman on Cruise Ship. To join in click here. To join in click here.

In my mind you ebb and flow,. In your ancient soul,. Forlorn despair and buoyant hope. Stoking the fire in my belly,. You strengthen from a slow simmer. On our raft of papier-mâché. Have a Wonderful Week-End! August 14, 2015. A breeze that shapes soft. Let me be the wind,. That set your heart in motion.

Poetry, Fiction and Art. The Machinery Point of Divergence. The Machinery- Point of Divergence Paperback. Point of Divergence- Cover Reveal.

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Poetry, free verse, haiku, senryu, photography, books, art, philosophy , nature. Looking for harvest gold rainbows. Reflections in gurgling brooks, streams. Trees preparing to bare their soul. Cascading leaves russet, brown fold. To lay down a carpet of gold. A nip in the air warmness stole. Nature hibernates as I stroll. An old favourite of mine.

Poetry From the Heart! Roth Poetry Home Page. On Election night November 8 2008 I watched into the night as Barack Obama was the first African American to ever be elected President of the United States of America. Following the war torn Bush years I was ready, at that time, for his message of. Even so, this was a historic and significant event no matter which political side you fall on. This is how I felt at that time. I saw America gathered One Nation Under God.

Ekakhana Bengali mail on this blog from the history of the world or the whole world will be written the history of the old and the new. All the brothers and sisters invited blogger. Bangladesh flood situation worsened and losses 2016. Brahmaputra and Jamuna rivers flooded, but the water has continued to increase stabilization. As a result, Gaibandha, Jamalpur, Bogra and Sirajganj districts, the flood situation has worsened. Around Dhaka Buriganga, Balu, Shitalakhya, in.

Do I lie to them? No If dishonest people ask me a questio.

I am a collection of dismantled almosts. Music Flight of the Bumblebee. He was the ever shallow pool of liquid amber. He was the clink of ice, the red booths. He was the motels, the Murphy beds, the naps. He was the driver, never the talker. He was the ageless, the timeless. He was the walking wounded.

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