Oh how I miss
the feeling of your
lips, whispering
your mountain secrets
so close to my
ear that I would
have sworn they were
a little voice in my head,
never leaving me
alone… Never in a creepy
way, though, just like
a warm presence, I could
take along, walking in
my forests. Forests covered
with snow, forests holding
the stories that made up
my life. Hung to
the branches, like colorful
Christmas ornaments, there
for you to choose from,
waiting for me to tell
the tale behind the yellowed
pictures pinned to them.
Until… I ended up walking,
alone. Waiting for the little
voice to bring back
a smile for my now silent,
chapped lips…
Cyranny's Cove 
Even the rivers and streams have something to say.
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True… there’s a story to be told wherever we take the time to stop and listen š
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Mm, beautiful
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Thank you, Miriam š Really glad you enjoyed it xx
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I’m sending an assortment of chapstick….need to take care of those lips young lady!
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Thank you Suze…. Those cracked lips do hurt š
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oh the imagery. sigh.
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Thank you Rosema š Glad this spoke to you!! xx
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yes it did. You’re welcome!
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š
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Love!
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Glad you enjoyed it š Thank you very much xx
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