I came here, ready to write the day away.
I stubbed my toe against a corner closet-step.
I warmed my coffee pot instead.
Flopping down to the chair that needed me, like everything else in the room:
the children crying, my plants are dying, the cold called me too.
I grabbed my socks put them on, fed the babies with tiny spoons.
Sipped my mocha piping hot and then I could not write.
Ah-ey, there goes my day.
a peaceful "meander with intention" amongst the trees
Welcome Aboard, Train Wreck
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Social Justice Educator, Aspiring Humanitarian
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Everybody has a story. Here's a little of mine.
Drink the fuel!
Sharing the HOPE and encouragement we have in God.
Words are the only thing left holding me together
Light shall shine out of darkness!
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Detroit Richards
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Photographer obsessed with water, and with taking photos.
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Poetic storyteller with a mic and a camera.
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Beauty ever ancient, ever new. - St. Augustine
with the Holy Spirit of promise -Ephesians 1:13
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I am Eva -former refugee, doctor and a writer. My parents were Holocaust survivors, I escaped communism. I wrote a novel, mixing family stories and fiction. A novel about Holocaust, communism, racism and emigration. What makes people leave, and what happens to the ones who do, and to the ones who stay. I believe these old stories are more important now than ever before.
May the Words Flow
I find some peace here
A Poet's Vision 
It’s definitely like that sometimes!
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🙂
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Reblogged this on Visionarie kindness.
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Perhaps the definition of “bittersweet” but mostly sweet.
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indeed so true Happy Sunday to you 🙂
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Reblogged this on Sarah's Attic Of Treasures and commented:
My days go like that and I don’t have any kids.
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awe, thank you kindly Sarah’s Attic of Treasures, wow- what an honor… My heart is glad, wishing you a lovely day. Truly my day has been made 🙂
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I am glad I helped make your day. Hugs my frriend.
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