August 15
Her hair, owl feathered and quiet
Her eyes as dark as ebony
She floats around her greenhouse like the angel she is
This place has brought her the peace and serenity she was looking for, for so long in all the wrong places
She found this place and herself not a moment too soon
Good things come to those who wait with open eyes looking and open hearts ready to receive
This is heaven she thinks as she tends to the flowers and herbs she will sell at Saturday's market
She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, so satisfied and full.
August 16
And into the shadows again, without a whisper!
Always without a whisper
You never announce your arrival or departure
Are you a figment of my imagination?
I wish I knew. I never know what to do when I realize you are here.
But then once I know, it seems as if you disappear very quickly.
You don't want to be noticed.
Just once can you stay so I can get to know you?
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