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| Before the Storm Ominous rumblings and scowling clouds combine, raising high hopes in heavy afternoon stillness obliterating the sulphurous stench rising from sun-baked sidewalks blurring the whir of fans behind drawn curtains taunting thirsty hounds lolling in gravel driveways Slowing the tick-tock of passing time sending whispered prayers and furtive glances skyward prolonging the waiting, heightening the suspense, before erupting in exaltation with that first glorious drop of relief. |
| Winter Wonderland Quilts piled high against winter's first chill, pressing me down deeper into the comforting feathery softness, Just a few more minutes . . . time to savour the intricate patchwork of delicate, lacy etchings frozen into my windowpane; touch of a master artist evident in each exquisite brushstroke |
| Keepsakes Keepsakes in the tin box decorated with cameos of a Victorian lady, mysterious smile caressing her lips. Faded letters tied with palest blue ribbon Dusty rose decaying between transparent paper Sepia snapshots piercing the edges of memory. Who is he, Grandma? That handsome young solider Smiling from some forgotten country. Your eyes connect momentarily, shining in instant recognition. A sound gurgles from your throat, struggles to escape, then fades away, your smile slips behind a blank wall. The Victorian lady guards your keepsakes well. |
| Divine Intervention Fog shrouded cliffs loom suddenly, bespeaking disaster, heralding long-ago horrors and almost forgotten tales of bodies left to rot in Davy Jones locker. History now set to repeat itself, but the beacon intervenes, guiding ship and crew off treacherous rocks and home to sheltering arms--today |
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