Gossamer Lens

Something about writing feels illicit My notebooks fill with poetry, thoughts, worlds of idea Writing never ceases But the sharing It fee...

This week my mind wanders. It wanders over the happy memories of living near, traveling to, and simply being with my Grandpa. If he had...

A Blank Page before me, a head full of thoughts. Nothing written in ages, so many things to write. I am a person who feels. The other...

Sitting here writing Wisps of image Shrouded shadow Of Imagined future...

Lately I have been getting some feedback/questions about my use of a pseudonym. Some think that it is silly of me to hide my personal...

Oh joy of joys! Elation that I feel In my bosom burn Why were you...

Sitting, we share poetry. Bits and pieces of our souls are spilled into the air of our local library, at an open mic event. Sifting....

Recently I hit 3,500 views. It hit and I was freakin' out. (Yes spell check claims that "freakin'" isn't a word... it is people. It is.)...

My first memories are of reading with my parents. My favorites then included Peter Pan and anything by Doctor Suess. I would follow my...

How young I was when I first sat and watched my grandpa write. How young I was when I took my seat beside him and watched as his...

All of us look at life through a figurative camera. We zoom in on certain things, like religion, family, careers, or perhaps something...