If
by Rudyard Kipling
We all have stories, these are mine. I tell them with a heart full of love and through eyes of kindness.
by Rudyard Kipling
They are made, not born
Isa 6:8
Driving to buy flowers this morning for her. This seems like the kind of thing a loving husband would do,
A boy negotiates with a tree to turn him into a rocket and leave earth for the stars.
A right thing makes better.

There is no such thing as a natural death:
Blow after blow
Making this heart of mortal man rejoice
Which is worth more? The thrill, or the pain?
Here's a little poem I wrote about my wife one morning while she slept peacefully in an attic in upstate PA.