Letting Life Lead
I think I should perish shackled in matrimony these seven years.
Upon my bed, your musk clings in the sheet folds and pillow dents. Your caresses linger in creases where polite tongues daren’t tread. Oh, fortune that propriety is not your forte.
Come tonight? My balcony waits.
writing, traveling, and tap dancing around town.
Leave your fear of the dark at the door, suspend your disbelief and come on in...
Writer and procrastinator
Warden of Words // Shaper of Stories
Bewitching Journey of Words to Meaning
This is the story of building a cottage , the people and the place. Its a reminder of hope and love.
Just your average PhD student using the internet to enhance their CV
Pen to paper