I Knocked Upon Your Door . . . . 04/12/2011
 I knocked upon your door. You answered, I came in. We embraced, you said get comfortable. I could see a small opening in your sheer kitchen curtains. A bottle of olive oil, a folded dish towel, open faced cupboards. Small, cozy, functional, candles burning, lights dim and comfy shadows. Let go you say, relax come to me, allow me to refresh your moment in time. The curtains hung placid dividing the space drawing me near to the moment. I had the time, you were there, and I could hear the clock ticking. Tick tock, tick tock. My heart was beating, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump. You were still there, where was I? Comments Your comment will be posted after it is approved. Leave a Reply | "The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself." - Henry Miller
 A Little Insight To My BlogPat's Whispers are a short gathering of words from my imagination for you to ponder. A spattering of this and that, pomp and prose and almost anything else to wonder. ArchivesMay 2012 Categories |
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