In those
Heartfelt moments of you
My words spoke
The most
Inadequate things

I hesitate to use my thoughts
Real and true, I change my direction
Falling back on those before you
Indulgent and comforing

I've had no time to muse, live in my dreamy world
Perhaps post a picture and allow some feelings to flow
Isn't that the way I love to do it?

All I have are my words, armed in my mind, written in pen, stand by stand. Oh, yes. Still by hand. It has a different feel. Altered not by keys, backspace, and delete, I write, erase, tear it to pieces and start all over again. And again.

Thank you for taking the time to read my post. It goes without saying, although I will... Flowers. Always. There must always be a flower to color your world. And just like that, this show is over. Come back tomorrow and we will do it again!

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost