Magazine Posts

It’s possible to buy pockets of love. Homer proved it one warm, puffy pitta at a time.

Even a blustery, wet sidewalk couldn’t deter a dozen-plus shuffling patrons from claiming their spot in line. Because while the former yoga-studio was anything but roomy, the promise of hand-rolled, wood-fired pita was just steps away.

We had a great moment, yesterday,
When all troubles and sorrow,
Were laughed, far away.
The magic of laughter, dearest friend,
As I am happy to say,
Should be something we reach for
During every time of the day.
It's the joy from our loving
That is here to stay.

The Wind gallops, swiftly, down through the trees.
It's a strong wind, not really a breeze.
The Wind around Ellensburg, bends all it sees.
Arriving in the early morning, not saying please,
But comes uninvited to our face, arms and knees,
Bringing Top Soil and brush, like a disease.

Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - (1844 -1900) German philosopher, cultural critic, composer, poet, philologist, and a Latin and Greek scholar.

So my friend, it's a quarter to three.
I arose from my bed so I could see
The wind blowing hard, into my tree.
The limbs did shimmy and did flutter.
Thank God my heart did not shudder,
As gust after gust, rattled my abode,
from rain on the winds coattails it rode.

My lonely days are gone.
I know not where.
The night is upon us
With darkness everywhere.
The Dawn peeks in the window
As the Sunlight glares,
Except for that hidden spot,
Underneath the back stairs.
A place, where, as a child
I would hide away
With my imaginary friend,
Who I did play.

Will you say, tomorrow
what you said today
and relive the sorrow,
that's here to stay?

The rippling of fast water,
Across moss laden stone,
With gurgling, bubbling sound,
Slashing water, here and there,
Brings back memories
Of the freshest of air.
Standing on the bank,
Of this beautiful sight,
Makes my senses soar,
With so much delight.