The Journey Begins…

For the last few days, I have found myself reminiscing over how my journey into writing all began. If I think about it, I have always made up stories. As a child, I would spend hours with a tape recorder making up plays for my Barbies to act out. Yes, I’m really that old. Shame my mother still doesn’t have those tapes. There were probably some real gems on them.Read More

Leaving Home (A Poem)

Migrating birds, flying south.
Winter it comes, and they fly south.
Wings spread far and wide,
Scared they’ll fail,
Leaving behind the warmth of the nest.
Her babies migrate for the first time alone.
Nervous and aflutter, she lets them fly.
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