I don’t really write poetry. Just past dreams, future thoughts, affirmations of presence; memories of today created in each moment.
I don’t really write poetry. Just past dreams, future thoughts, affirmations of presence; memories of today created in each moment.
When my oldest son, Marcus Jr., was five years old, his kindergarten art teacher pulled me aside at an open house. I immediately started wondering whether he was about to tell me Marcus was in trouble for something, or his grades were slipping (in kindergarten?!), or he went off radar on his assignments – he’s …
True wealth is the wealth of the soul
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
A collective of thoughts, poetry, writing works, blurbs, and other randomosity
BUZZWEED QUIZZES
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Art Studio Dumfriesshire
Kayfucius 