I Miss You

THE POET'S HEART 

The poet's heart
is tender
to this lady's ear,
yet men fancy
other ways
to woo her
not knowing
what her
tender being
longs to hear.

Champagne
may entice her,
diamonds may
turn her head,
but whisper words
of Keats, Byron,
play the notes
of Debussey,
the excitement
of the lyrical,
passionate dance,
will never end.
R. Woods

Rest my child, mi manchi.
We lost Raven to cancer.
October makes me sad.
Her smile is always with me.

Be kind, or at least forgiving, you never know what another person is coping with. Everyone has their own struggles.
We're usually doing the best that we can. Grudges just cause wrinkles and never satisfaction. I was the mother, but I try to remember her words every day. Some days I need reminding.

This started as a manip..but something had me get out my acrylics.  These were used for reference only.
 Rowing Boat PNG..    www.123rf.com/photo_14547681_m…