Well, my friends said, “when have a writer’s block, write about anything,” so here I am, writing…stuff.
When I grow up, I want to be…
the sweet hot sunshine on a winter’s night,
the drip drop of morning rain outside the window,
soothing promises of never-ending dreams,
the scent of citrus and cinnamon rolls,
the soft wind playing between the leaves,
a flutter of wings under the forget-me-not blue sky,
the fresh pages of a newly opened book,
a simple-sweet lullaby next to the old violin,
and thousands of wishes scattered upon the stars.