I Write PoetryIn the rustling of the rushes In the stillness of the night Comes the slight insistent whisper Comes the faintest hint of light When all around is turmoil When your world is bleak and dark Close your eyes and open up your heart Reach for peace and...See More »
I Hated Mommys Hairbrush When I Was A KidMom's hairbrush and my bare bottom were intimately acquainted. I was the recipient of Mom's brush far too many times for counting!
