• Monthly Columns

    The Promise

      Move slowly and speak not a word And we may catch A glimpse of HIM yet. The night is dark But I have seen the Icy thread of HER cloak. Crystal blue eyes and Hair black as the midnight sky Grace a face of pale beauty Poised on a body that is tall and lithe. She has etched the night sky with Fingers long and fair painting starlight and Holding the breath of new dawn In HER hands’ cupped embrace. SHE has embraced the world In the longest of nights. HER Promise held deep within. The forest is hushed and white with snow. Ice crystals glisten round and all…