Perched on a stone bench with her legs crossed, she finds herself in the midst of a palatial off-white greenhouse. A breeze rolls through the garden-filled atrium she's been sitting in, sweeping her hair gently into her face. Brushing back her mocha colored strands, she pauses for a breath, then stands and begins walking. "Where is everyone?" she whispers, puzzled. While perusing the garden, she picks an odd flower with purple petals and spiky leaves. After considering how unlike the others it is, she tucks it behind her ear then heads for the glass door to the patio.
Greetings, reader. Please do enjoy this music I've prepared for you, and don't be too bashful to take a peek at some of my writings.
My poem titled "Ah, To Float in My Boat" is one of my personal .. more..