Scribbled Canvas

Hearts are not made to be won taken as if by conquest by some overwhelming force. They are only made to be given away gently and freely, or not. Love is a gi...

I visit her often my mother of nearly 100 years who sits in timeless pause, absent of her surroundings. Dust accumulated furniture with permanent stain and ...

I know not your name, but I can feel you in my chest. I know not the curve of your face, or the tone of your voice, but I already love the song they sing to ...

In the autumn of life when leaves cling fiercely to each other aware of the imminent fall to winter, I reach for your hand. Snowfall is no threat with y...

How do you not lose yourself? How do you hold on when perched upon a tree of seasons, adventures, and love fused in the life of two and the ghost of o...

I selected it just for you… a special tone… a ring like the quiet clang of fine crystal kissing gently in a shared toast. Yet, when announcing your reach alt...