voyages extrordinaires when you and me were wearing flares and drinking champagne out of flutes the south of france and kinky boots my mother sat upon the wall sun glasses perched so would not fall my flips have flopped and one has dropped our cranky car the engines stopped everyone out we are... Sign in to see full entry.
tales from the murky splurge:
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About this Blog
Poetry is about expression of thought. Sometimes the best work is the kind of stuff that just leaps up from within our soul. I write a lot about the murky splurge...This defines a place where we are are given the freedom to bare our souls in word but understand it is between the lines where most truth resides, In a world which has an abundance of love for all to share there is a whirlwind stirring. these words come out of a storm, but reader of my blog, please see although we write about many things, we may just mean another...well that is what the villagers said..... have fun.
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