Magic has a postman Who always delivers The good news: that Everything is fresh to Begin again with today Continue reading Magic has a postman….
Roses seem to pick up The pieces of ourselves That vanish without a Trace to coax us to write up the inventory of losses! To forward to the magician Of peace to investigate & Reassemble the ravages! Continue reading Roses & the Magician of Peace
Magic drips its syrup of silence Down upon the smelly drain of A dolorous day soaking up hope Like liquor! And just recalls faith Continue reading Magic drips its syrup….