Roses have thorns,’ we whine. When thorns of life entwine. Simple things can bring solace to heart-Things everyone take for granted-Like tending beds of fragile roses-with heart full of scars

Cold feet under a warm blanket, steam over an empty mug--rain splatters on dry window pane--open journals of closed memories... tears of laughter and joy of pain... schmaltz of diametric morning.

Thorns with rose petals, beauty with imperfection, softness of insensibility, pain of love; duality of human nature

Tingling fingers, morning birds, rain splatters on window pane, journals of fading escapades and laughter...

The mind is a poetic meadow for reification, where dark and light things are created