winter mirror mysterious prints at crosstime junction

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

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

Dressed for her wedding, she hurried to her beloved’s side. Her finest silk was chosen and she became His bride.

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

got my surfboard out and rode the photon waves: googled out!

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

Clouds sail a vast blue ocean, shapes shifting in that expansive Big Sky.

I went to Coin Lent to get some money pumped. But all my cash I spent, and all my cred was dumped.

He pretends to be a hard boiled eg… He actually has a soft yolk. Sometimes, when he acts tough, he is secretly fluid. If you get to know him, he removes

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

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