I Sit In My Tree I Sing

Writing Will Be Like A Journey, Every Word A Footstep That Takes Me Further Into Undiscovered Land.

Sometimes We Just Have To Accept There Are Things We Can’t Know. Why Is Your Sister Ill? Why Did My Father Die?…sometimes We Think We Should Be Able To Know Everything. But We Can’t. We Have To Allow Ourselves To See What There Is To See, And We Have To Imagine.

They Say That Shoulder Blades Are Where Your Wings Were, When You Were An Angel," She Said. "they Say They're Where Your Wings Will Grow Again One Day.

And What Is Wrong With Playing With Words? Words Love To Be Played With, Just Like Children Or Kittens Do!

Anything Seems Possible At Night When The Rest Of The World Has Gone To Sleep.