The Aspiring Bard

Unsteady, I Find solace  From The gadabout Of life; A rest In all this Changeful Changelessness. The earth,  My friend, Moves on Yet stays the same; Reflecting One Who alters not, But is To each A revelation New And strange.

George Pruteanu Come, Bathe in freshest Sunbeams Of the day, Regardless of the taunts of Demon fears Recalling you to last night's Slavery. Light and life spring out From every space, The Son arrives to set you Truly free. 

Here's another snippet of prose, again written in response to The Inkpen Authoress' Chatterbox event. The theme for this month is Superstition Obviously, such a topic could get rather weird and decidedly creepy. I decided to take a more...gentle and homespun route, which seems to have sprouted effortlessly from the place where I grew up. This is a conglomerate of family story, personal memories, and imagination (of course). Maybe I'm just a tad homesick? Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Getty Images Come Sit  With Me, Darlin'     "The moonlight's like silver on the gravestones."    "Pretty, isn't it? Like bein' in a whole different sorta world."    "And so warm...spring's got here at last."    "Here, come sit with me, darlin', and tell me how you've been."    "Well, Jim brought the wife and kids over this afternoon. It was a real nice visit. I knew they were comin' this mo

Ted Larson I've heard it said there's beauty in the furnace That maybe I am just too close to see. I simply know I reached my hand You took it And stayed inside the fire here With me.