Manifold tokens,
of wondrous bountiful grace,
Glory unto Thee.
Sparrowhawks, we, sing Thy praise!
Thy servants rejoice in faith.
Welfare unto all
Linking with Blogging from A to Z April Challenge
Hark! The rhythm
Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
The sun was nearly gone. So were the last of his passengers. That was what he thought. Driving the cab at snail-pace through city’s traffi...
-
He went there. Daily. Unfailingly. His conversations, Candid, Intimate. And why not! He had Inspired That iron-man, ...
-
The 12 inch heel, the confident gait, The measured steps, the sudden halt, The blush on cheeks, the smoldering eyes, The hands on h...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.