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 |    A log of the magnificent journey across the vast sea of my imagination. |
 A log of our magnificent journey. |
| Hand in hand, we walked along the beach, spring break some fifty years ago. We walked and talked and laughed, while chasing waves and scooping shells. That afternoon delight became a steady thing, as our bond kept growing stronger and stronger. The touch of your hand made me quiver when I placed the wedding band on your finger. Before long, three children joined us on our journey. Then came first steps, first words, graduations, weddings, new cars, new homes as our family grew. Through years of joy and struggle, the touch of your hand became my anchor. With your hand in my hand, we entered the realm of retirement. Today, that sensation still feels as grand as it did fifty years ago when we first met. 20 lines/126 words |
| Summer breeze whispered ancient tales, as geese gathered by the stream. Doe and fawn wandered down the trails, according to Nature's scheme. With summer spirits in control, we took heed as daylight waned. Sensory buffet fed our soul, and mystic melodies reigned. We enjoyed the antics of woodland sprites, while troubadours sang about summer nights. Notes on the Ravenfly form of poetry ▼ |
| Remembering those brave young men who stormed the beach at Normandy. Remembering those who gave their all and never returned to those waiting at home. Remembering those families and friends who lost their loved ones forever. Remembering all those who continue to sacrifice so we may be free. |
Poetry is dancing with the language of life-- the tone, the tempo, the shades, the sounds of words, the symphony crescendo of crimson and gold, rising with the sun at dawn. Poetry is the door to discovery opening new perspectives. |
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