Friends of Bill W.

LeftWriteFemme · 12-13-2009, 07:34 AM

December 13

WHAT IS MINE

The cloud of snow slept in the tree overnight and poured from the branches with the morning breezes. Showers of crystal, dropping from a clear daylight sky, are telltales of intentions delayed. What was meant for moon time has been kept till sunshine, a treat for bright eyes and young hearts. How can I weep over altered destinations? Arrivals and departures are truly within the province of poetry and postcards, not things for worry or fretting. Putty is for forming into an image of my desire not the world. Time is a liquid substance I cannot decant at my will. Shoulds and oughts are parlor games for the bored and senseless. If I waste my life playing a game I can’t win I will fail to see what I can’t lose.

Work with someone who works.

12-13-2009, 07:34 AM	#11
LeftWriteFemme Practically Lives Here How Do You Identify?: Daddy's good girl Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: Jersey Posts: 16,642 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 2,529 Thanked 12,285 Times in 5,184 Posts Rep Power: 21474869	December 13 WHAT IS MINE The cloud of snow slept in the tree overnight and poured from the branches with the morning breezes. Showers of crystal, dropping from a clear daylight sky, are telltales of intentions delayed. What was meant for moon time has been kept till sunshine, a treat for bright eyes and young hearts. How can I weep over altered destinations? Arrivals and departures are truly within the province of poetry and postcards, not things for worry or fretting. Putty is for forming into an image of my desire not the world. Time is a liquid substance I cannot decant at my will. Shoulds and oughts are parlor games for the bored and senseless. If I waste my life playing a game I can’t win I will fail to see what I can’t lose. Work with someone who works.