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Hi, Sherye! How are you?

Hi, all.

A beautiful tribute, you gave the sun life, with ups and downs, and wins and losses, a stalwart constant in our lives. It's a lovely, poem, northie. Cheers!

This stirs some vague and some clearer memories of this family affair in Brigg's Corner, New Brunswick. There was no 49 Ford in my memories... instead a harnessed team of dark bays owned by my cousin's grandfather. I adored those horses, and was sad I was too small to go in the woods on the wagon during the sap harvest. The fires seemed huge to me then, and I remember that sweet smell. Thanks for this wonderful journey, Parker. Fine poetry here, painting pictures and evoking nostalgia. Loved the second last verse especially... stolen glances, dancing eyes, and rainbow colored kisses. Sweetness for sure. Cheers!

"And now for something completely different".... I had to consume this a few times, and it is overall delicious for something so bleak. I think I picture you tongue in cheek, but I really can't be sure. The glee I felt in that final verse was brilliant. I picture Lucifer rubbing his hands together. Actually, I got something powerful from each verse... the first and second grabbed me by the throat. Well done!!!

A wonderful and concise journey of one boy/man's discovery. I think the way you used 'seasons' worked well here. It can be such a lonely confusing path to take, and you made me feel that here. I liked the conclusion showing self awareness. Well done, sir. Cheers!

Hey, Bill! Thank you so much for your support of my meager offerings. The second poem followed on the heels of writing the first, so I really felt their connection, and I'm pleased others did too. I think the first allowed me to go there... to write something quite personal. There are farms all over that are in ruins, yet still fertile, and I don't think it is so different for a life lived, at least for some. We might look different as we age, but are we really all that different from our youth? I'd like to think things can still grow in my soil. Cheers!

I did wish for hope to be felt, my friend. Love can be fleeting, but so can sadness. Closing up serves great purpose in protecting us, but holding onto bitterness does not... not in the long run. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts. Cheers!

Thank you, sweet lady! It's not always easy to share poetry, but my experience has been, with few exceptions, it usually turns out to be worthwhile. Happy you liked these, dear friend.

Yes, Parker. Many ruins can be rebuilt, at least enough to be recognizable for what they once were. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts. Cheers!

Exactly. Memories are often all that remains, and depriving ourselves of some of them because they hurt is not in our own interest. I'd like to think of them without angst, and while it might prove difficult, I believe it will be worth it. Love is a gift, even if it dies a horrible death. Thanks, Doha! Much appreciated. Just to note, I have two more entries to come in this Poetry Anthology. Cheers!

Thanks, kbois! "The Foretelling" is about that anticipated moment many of us wait for after a long winter, when we are on the cusp of a new renewal. "Among the Ruins" goes in another direction, but is still about the possibilities of change. A different renewal. I appreciate you reading and sharing your thoughts. Cheers!

I think you actually did see it, going by the words of your comment, my friend.

Yes, they are very different, but they do have a connection in that renewal comes in many forms. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts, tim. Cheers!

No, there will never be such a thing, but there may be honest conversation and appreciation for our past, one on one... something I never envisioned happening. There was a friendship achieved for a time, but that lasted until I witnessed betrayal to someone else, along with uncomfortable overtures. Thanks for reading and commenting, Ricci. Much appreciated. Cheers!

Thanks, Chris! Happy you thought so. Cheers!

I find it almost effortless to write about nature, and I'd like to think it is because I am in tune with it. "The Foretelling" contains that joy I feel when I step out onto the veranda and feel those signs of spring. I hope I never lose my amazement at the natural world and it's constant changes. Happy to hear you liked this poem. "Among the Ruins" is definitely a contrast, and your words show your understanding of me. It's not like I spend hours contemplating my life, but I do at times get lost in memories. It's occurred to me the ones I push away are just as important as the ones I welcome. What we carry affects so much more than we might imagine... in essence we can fool ourself. I can honestly say writing this poem allowed me a change of heart I believe was needed, not to say it is THE answer... but it gives me a different and helpful perspective. As far as the windmill, it exists as I describe. I often wonder how many cows used it as a scratching post over the decades. The old homestead is gone, and I can't see the mill in summer because of tree cover, but it stands clear once the leaves drop in fall. I've trekked up to it a couple of times once the cows have been moved, but of course it is on private property. Thank you, my friend, for taking time to read and comment. The best thing about writing poetry is what it does for me personally, but second best is having someone relate in some small way. My oh my, I'm a garrulous man today.

Hi, all!

Hey, Leo! So glad you gave this story a chance. It's not the first time I've had readers say they weren't into shifter stories, but that Morningstar changed that. I love this world... and I love all the characters, and I haven't given up hope for continuing it at some point. However, I will always be proud of this work, and thankful for the reception it continues to get. I look forward to reading your review... and I would ask that you leave a Story Like/Reaction and a Story Recommendation on the front story page to help me bring in new readers. Here's the link to make it easy... Thanks, Leo... a 'forever'' fan is not something I take for granted. Much appreciated, my friend.

The Foretelling Softened snow streams, like a determined runner’s sweat, off the heated metal roof caressed by the recently reticent sun, finally allowed to flex its power It bursts a fiery orange behind closed eyelids, delicious D-laden rays warming the thirsty skin taut on my upturned face, hastening the pulse of my blood Gentle clay chimes wake and play, tinkling notes next to my ear, and that same

Two new poems about the cycle of change, for us and the world around us.

Anyone see my status update?

Wow, James! Thank you! It's so nice to get this on the day of my tenth anniversary on GA. @Timothy M. was my editor, an excellent one, from the beginning. He offered his services after I posted my first chapter of my first story. He was someone I counted on a great deal, and he was also a good and dear friend. You're correct in everything you say about him. His comments were often revelatory, even to me. I truly enjoy interacting with my readers, and I always try to do justice to comments. Frankly, it is a lot of hard work, but 'thanks for reading', while simpler, would never suffice for me. Happy you appreciate that. There is always a backstory--more fleshed out story--in my head before I start writing, so I know my characters and their motivations inside out. I enjoy having a chance to bring some of that to light in the comments. I appreciate you taking the time to leave a comment. They make this old author happy. Please remember to leave a Story Like and Story Recommendation on the front story page if you haven't already. Cheers, my friend!

Hey, all!