mindwhisperer
He care for himself as much as his one hundred year old bones could do. He could only fend for himself for he had no one else to look out for him. He should have been more charitable when he was younger.
Mention my name and he will cringe. Mention what I did and he will rage. Mention that I am gone and he will cry. Mention me for that is the only way I can be be near him.
The roar of the wind fused with the roar of the waves as it lashed against the rocks. My skirt and long hair whips about and around me. But in this tempest, I still feel at one with the universe.
A wagon carries things, people, memories, treasured moments towards the great blue yonder, to the California Gold rush of the 1800s. Can't find a wagon like that no more.
A prosperous day it is for a man when he does not look for wealth but finds prosperity in wisdom.
The trade winds that blow galleons across unchartered seas brings the fate of sailors across unknown lands. There they shall find a tropical paradise where danger lurks behind every coconut tree.
Near the tree I once passed by is an empty space. In its place is a love seat carved out of that tree - it is still near to where I once passed by.
What kind of wrench is used by a wench to quench one's thirst on a bench?
I wouldn't know. Might as well wrench something out of the bench.
The late night edition on my bed side table speaks of events already happening. The edition in my mind speaks of events about to come.
Summer...thoughts of warm days, balmy nights, setting sun in the hills brings everything aglow. Summers of my youth spent in the fields amongst the flowers......by my gravestone.
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