Writing is something that calls to me, gentle as a summer rain, the constant pitter-patter of mindfulness. “Come sit with me,” she calls, desperate for my attention. As alluring as the smell of fresh bread, she beckons. “What shall I write?” I ask Words begin their tribal dance, waiting for…
I started writing this 3 years ago, inspired after watching the leaves dance in the breeze. Wondering if they too, have trouble letting go of the familiar and venturing into the unknown. The main reason that I waited so long to finish this, was I thought I needed an illustrator,…
At any given hours, I like to write I do it in the day, and all through the night It’s my world of escape, my way to cope It’s keeps me tethered to hope, like a rope. When I do, one thing is always true Basura cat wants to write…
My cat was meowing loudly and proud I asked, "Why are you being so desperately loud?" She replied, “Like you, I’m trying to sing It seems like such a remarkably, simple thing” “Teach me,” she asked as she played on the floor “I want to sing opera, country and more…