Opening his eyes, he gazed up at the moon. ‘She’s like a beautiful lady, all white curves and silver,’ he thought with a laugh at his poetic attempt. Yet, this lady possessed him.
2. Unexpectedly, I drop my napkin, fork, or toothpick onto the floor, thereby necessitating that I must pick it up.
Hanging on walls of this narrow passageway were paintings of saps, fools, and those who generally carried large rocks in their tiny heads.
Her thighs, her (um) fluffy nah-nah, her belly, and her breasts exposed to very heavy metal indeed!
Artists, Poets, and Bards...
A special group of souls live in the “real world”…Artists, Poets, and Bards. And if they are truly blessed, they will know who they are…or someday realize it. This group follow a path that is lit by a puzzling, mysterious glow, which is only as bright as their own belief in themselves.