I found this book last week. “Taps On The Walls, Poems from the Hanoi Hilton by Maj General John Borling” The story, the heroism, the demonstration of hope in the midst of grave peril inspires me. I admit, it also worries me. Men like Borling are more rare and rare. His spirit, heart, ability to remain steadfast seems to be …
I like the quiet…
I like the quiet. When the only sound in my office is the whir of the ceiling fan. The tick of a clock that won’t keep time. The rapid click-click of my keyboard. The resonance of my thoughts… I like the quiet. Those moments when the world is still. When the breeze lies down. When peace finds a harbor. I …
Don’t you wonder? The story of this swing? How long it’s been there? How long it will be? Did lovers sit here and declare their hearts? Or a crying mother over the plight of a child? Perhaps children ran screaming for the swing, Hopping up on it’s seat. Maybe the swing itself weeps, Of being alone, Beside the tree. I …