The archer aims, hoping it is true. The arrow flies. Is the eye hit new?

I huffed my ego, by pouring me into it– She popped my balloon.

sky shapeshifters take infinite forms on the azure canvas.

gentle breeze on the beach– sudden rain

Monsters under our beds are phantoms in our heads. Gurus shout such ghosts at our ear… and fears.

Coffee perks in the pot. It heats to perfection. Come, we commune with our cups of coffee.

a furious air and neighborhood destruction– somebody’s lost pet

Went to the hall, talked Kingdom y’all through swapping yarns for we give a darn, then sang our songs.

Burned flesh in the nostrils, napalm nightmare haunting the brain, destroys the rhythm of life.

Snow melts. Waterfalls streaming rivulets off roofs slake the thirsty ground.

Work defines the bee? Hives shoul… But entries belong on pages. Companies write mission memos. Souls pen living stages.

Pick up those cups. Embrace those days full of flavors. Savor every single drop. Drink up.

Once we had a happy planet with apogees and perigees.

Broken by the vampires who suck life from souls with minimums that keep tires spinning in muck.

dropplets, dropping down, sinking slowly in soil are Mother’s helpers.