The Sword in my Hand


Come, sit by my side, let's chew this ancient cud of memories... Where we were before and where we are now. Everything is silent, except save our hearts. Take this arm into yours, remind me what it used to feel like before the here we are in. Fitting into the tapestry of what your life was, it evokes memories of when you were here.


Your words are a living wave of positivity. I am thankful that I am and others are. You are who you are - and the world is a better place because of you. Grant me a moment of luxury, to gaze upon the beauty that sits here, waiting to be admired.


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I should confess, a star was born when our paths crossed, you've inspired, ignited, and evoked undiluted desire to let my thoughts wander freely, with passion and desire of achievement. Your words are insightful and sharpening.


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´¨)
¸.• ´¸.•
´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.• " Some days
Which moment matters not
The warmth of your presence
Will spill over, captivating
My soul, my soul
Turning my life, right side up


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Moving in peace, beautiful piece. My floral enthusiasm can't be given up upon, not now or ever. I want to express my thanks to you for sharing your thoughts, at some point in the future, I may jump back to those very thoughts and memories that you leave me, but always, you'll remain cherished. Oh, the memories, no? I march forward, always forward, but, will indulge in a few memories along the way. It is my way. I know no other.


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I circle around, the day was brisk, although not this day, people out in the park, admiring the color that has taken over the season. Trees everywhere, some even losing their dressing, left to bear the winter unadorned.


It is desirable to be the best version of yourself, every single day, and, I was faced with a great bridge of truth towards kindness in the middle of an ordinary day. A neighbor brought up my garbage and recycle bins from the sidewalk and set them up at my garage. A small gesture, for sure, but, it's the act, not the quantity that shows the kindness.


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Lead me to a love so sweet, so beautiful
Starting the spark that ignites my heart
´¨)
¸.• ´¸.•
´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•For it is so written
That you will remember the taste of our love
And the beauty that is painted with your words
The little things will unfold the mystery of the future


But these words are swords in the hands of a true lover, the feeling is true and the reality so clear. Love calls, love answers, a true heart seeking another will be pulled towards each other like the bee is to a flower. Keep the embers alive, stirring every movement in your emotions, because, after all, love is beautiful.


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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.

It’s my way. I walk out to the deep end of the page and dive right in.


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You know I love Christmas! I feel like the closer we get, the more difficult it will be to find that perfect gift. The shipping, the merchandise that isn't getting restocked, there are bound to be shortages. Less will be more this year. More than I expect. :) It's not about the presents my friends, it is about family and friends. In keeping with the Christmas Countdown, I give you one seasonal picture and the day count! There are 65 days 23 hours 5 minutes and 27 seconds.

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How do I Love Thee

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning


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