For Mine.Didn't the Bard put it this way, with love bleeding from his quill, "Love is merely a madness"... I agree; but in a dark house, he is my life's blood, my life's joy, my life's enrichment. And on a canvas lit with the moon on water, he is the reflection on my face. And thru love's eternal capture, I can only letter these scarce words on the edge of my voice... "To A -- Happy Sixteenth Work in Progress!"
Yours.
As yesterday was ours, today is ours -- a gathering spot on the horizon, ever always a new opening to each other.
Impromptu:
My life's draw
My life's answer
My life's indulgence
My life's duet
My life's refrain
My life's affection
My life's renewal
My life's atonement
My life's resonance
My life's alms
My life between the lines
miss thistle
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