I got lost for a while and somehow did not find much time to write here this past month. I guess that is how it may go, sometimes I may write five or six posts in a week and sometimes I might be absent for a little while. Do not worry though, if I am to be done with this project I will write a post saying so, otherwise I will always eventually return.. though hopefully more frequently than I have lately.<\/p>\n
Something I would like to note is that I know the comment Captcha is a pain, I will try and loosen that up. It is so strict because the moment I started this blog I received so much spam and still do. So when you are writing a comment, be sure your comment goes through otherwise I cannot post it or reply to it.<\/p>\n
Icey<\/strong>, I have a couple of your replies but they were caught by the filter so I cannot post them because the Captcha was not entered right. I write to you specifically because I know you read often and there are a few of them that did not go through. I can read them, but they are stuck in a spam filter that I can not publish from. I always appreciate your comments.<\/p>\n I like poetry, I imagine I have mentioned that. I write poetry as well, someday I may publish my own here. For today though, I offer you another poem that caught my eye that said just the right things at just the right moment.<\/p>\n This cloud that I walk through. The sun is a hazy globe, Hedgerows, cocooned in frosty webs, I pause and look around, I am happy in this foggy world, Ambrose Harte = Scattered Thoughts<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I got lost for a while and somehow did not find much time to write here this past month. I guess that is how it may go, sometimes I may write five or six posts in a week and sometimes … Continue reading
\nIt is foggy out this morning.
\nI don my coat and walk the misty lane.
\nTrees loom out of the lurking fog,
\nsprinkling dew drops in a silver rain.<\/p>\n
\nthe air is tinged with morning dew
\nand I am at peace with the world,
\nalone, in this cloud that I walk through.<\/p>\n
\nthin ice crunching beneath my feet,
\nand my breath casts crystals in the air
\nand the dew on my tongue is cool and sweet.<\/p>\n
\na sea of grass, brittle in the freezing air,
\na white capped arctic ocean,
\nsoon to disappear.<\/p>\n
\nmy imagination is wild and free
\nand in ghostly wisps of drifting fog,
\nthe child within, runs wild in me.<\/p>\n