If I could paint a portrait, of this life in which I've led, and somehow sketch a story, of the visions in my head, I'd start out with a canvas, stretched tightly in a frame, and in the bottom corner, I'd leave room to sign my name. (Michelle A. Bartley)
Rosemary J. Gwaltney
northern mountains, Idaho
I just had to bump this one, honey! The loving words "she was a rose that Iíve longed for & worn for O these many years" sing to me like the sweetest lovesong - and I also love the phrase "autumns lie beneath my knees" - there's something magical and haunting about that. Time. I'm fascinated when you write of time.