When life’s storms brew and shadow… And bitter lemons fill your room, Take heart, for struggles shape th… Each trial leads to making you who… Trust in the whispers deep inside,

In the symphony of life, friends a… Harmonizing our blues, setting us… Through crescendos of joy and echo… Their presence is a gift we’ll che… Accepting our flaws, even when our…

As I stand before you today, I’m reminded of the countless sunrises and sunsets that have marked my journey through life. At 68, I’ve seen the world change in ways I could never have im...

Brown Fur Tail wags Paws touch Wet grass Nose smell

Morning whispers, Dew-kissed petals, Unfold nature’s, Soft song.

In a world of words, where meaning… A tale unfolds—a linguistic ride. Bombastic strides forth, bold and… A lexicon soldier, sword in hand. With syllables clashing, vowels ab…

In a quaint suburban yard, so neat… Resides a troop of chihuahuas, pet… Yet chaos lurks in this tranquil s… Brought on by feral cats, both sly… The neighbor’s cats form a motley…

In the depths of the ocean, where… Lives Crusty the crab, a rather q… With claws like castanets, he clic… Strutting across the seabed, on hi… He’s a maestro of the sands, a con…

In the high forests where the bamb… Lives a red panda named Rosey, wi… She’s the first panda, a title she… Named long before her giant cousin… Rosey munches bamboo, her favorite…

In the dance of cause and effect, Karma spins a subtle thread, Where actions plant the seeds we s… Bears fruit on the paths we’re led… What you reap is what you plant,

In the forest’s gentle hush, Underneath the twilight’s blush, Lived a porcupine so brash, With a heart turned to ash. Prickly spines of solitude,

Quail whistles Bob White, As crickets strum their leggy tune… A moth flits, drawn to the porch l… Its delicate wings brushing agains… Above the moonless sky,

Beneath the sun’s forgiving glow, We cast the seeds of what we sow. Through fertile ground or barren p… We plant the roots of joy or pain. A whispered word, a kind embrace,

Little master mellow, quite a lovely older fellow. Sits in a rocker, on his porch, making music, by a dim lit torch. Pen in hand, paper in his lap,