mayday

Thank you, Parker, for this delightful Christmas present! Merry Christmas to you and all your loved ones!

In the beginning I could see no way out of the darkness. None. I am not sure how you have changed that but you have or your story has ? There is hope now. And life and warmth.

Lovely. And lovely cliff hanger, too!

they go together, seem to belong to each other, feed from each other. They breathe simple joy and love and care and awareness of what is. The birds embody life in oh so many forms - loud, brazen, shy, flitting... and the watcher is part of it all - beautiful -

Sweet!

You have made me weep again, with joy at the first and at the beauty of your images in the second. If words can alter the fate of those we love and hold dear yours may have all the power to do so.

I wish I was a native speaker of English...

So impressed with your rhymes! Do not ask me to understand the ideas - too many gaps of knowledge here.. but I love the way it sounds...

this hurts... somehow what is happening is so wrong - I feel for these guys

Do feel hugged.

And yet there is you. A firefly glows in the dark. A candle lights nothing in the bright sun. I wish we could hug with words.

lovely at first sight. must read more often to feel more than vague bliss and beauty

You're very welcome, Gary. I am always happy when I discover another story of yours. By the way, how is Morningstar getting on?

Poignant story - I like how you have captured the very moment a precious relationship could end over miscommunication. Things standing on the edge of a knife. It is always the little things that lead to explosions. I get Paul's fear, but applaud him for speaking out at last - though in desperation and precariously close to giving up... I also admire Chris for coming round and finding a way to really listen and to understand. And I am sure that if he had not remembered the crucial words - oil and water - in respect to Paul's parents he never would have understood because Paul would not have explained. A mere chance or a good memory or both... The central question seems to be why it is that we listen to what is being said but do not get what is meant? Your story suggests that it is our previous experiences - Chris has never experienced abuse so he is not aware of the danger whereas Paul's whole being seems to be centred around the fear of becoming violent, as that is what he knows. Powerful and to the point.

no reason to be sorry, even you cannot be perfect 😋

Just as Columbus Guy says: Amazingly warm!

phew! getting closer.

Great to hear that you enjoyed a lovely wedding! I am pretty sure, by the way, that Thoreau would not approve of our attitudes towards nature and life...

I am not sure, but somehow your tone has changed. There is hardly any playfulness there. You seem to feel more with the past than the present, greatly distanced from the latter. As if you were standing outside watching people today. The past is all in your feelings, your head and heart. On a visit to a concentration camp I overheard a tourist couple complain about the coffee shop being too far away, they obviously expected to enjoy refreshments on the site... your poems reminded me of my feelings then.

I love how your words give us various perspectives to look at what we are and can do, how the view shifts and how the last perspective, now far away from sleep, is full of hope.

You know what is inside you. But it is inside, not on the outside. You say evil is free to churn and twist - motions that get it nowhere, evil in a confined space, too confined to move and act freely. It sounds rather angry and desperate to me, desperate to break free, but somehow it never gets to the surface, only inside you, not touching the outside, as if the offensive words and feelings stay inside, unuttered. poisoning you, yourself. Not others. Not him. Not those who love you. The vowels you use sound like a sequence of rage - dark - then too bright - like churning and twisting, like hideous broth, like heinous cloth turning on themselves, but then the light comes in and the words become simple, quiet, soft and full of light indeed the last stanza is even more beautiful after the first two... a calm lake in the sunlight after a deep gorge full of rapids and whorls and vertigo after the boat has shot free It took me more than a day to write this. Couldn't, wouldn't react before I had anything to say...

Beautiful story!

Wonderful ending to an exciting chapter.

Somehow I love the way you so realistically lay out Arthur's being so clueless. When will he be able to replace his view of the world with a more open one? He is getting there, I can tell, but I guess it won't be smooth sailing.

Phew - three great friends + one real uncle - he has got a chance now to become himself!