Insomniac’s Meadow

how beautiful is this meadow, asleep in the arms of a breeze, the moonlight singing a berceuse only my ears strain to hear; ah, this insomniac wonders — could I sleep and miss these joys? Seven days, seven posts, that’s what the Write Tribe Festival of Words is about. Oh, and the theme is “Seven” … Read moreInsomniac’s Meadow

Lazy winter rain …

winter mist fills the morning sky; a quilt held upon the still world, skims the head of swaying trees, falls on new leaves as silver dew, such a refreshing sight to view; its scentless scent enchants me, in a heap I lie, only awake partly, as these endless flecks of mist cloud my clear window … Read moreLazy winter rain …