A transit full of festive day Dancers

Through the eye of the coloured twinkling gypsie crystal,
hangs the tales of things found on a trail lost on the clouds of someone elses story.






sometimes we stand there, and fall into it.
And know it better than that of our own world.

One that was so unfamiliar covered by falling snow of the clouds. A white canvas full of a different beat, irregularly off.







look back. A reflection of the beholder.

Red Hot

Indescreet and non descript

Red, luscious, a room full of the fever that takes over a country turning from the green bushiness to the red rosey trails of sweepy leaves falling to floor. An autumn whisper chills the spine, and creates the lure of deep heat, one held between two, breaths seen slowly as they escape and roll over the tonsils. sink me sick.

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Champaigne and all the other c's

The feminine female form
and the space it melds into...

sanctuaries of mind...
the inspiration of ones home builds into the heart of her eyes... a window to her soul

where's the bunny?bunny

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