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December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory.

John J. Geddes

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John J. Geddes
Already
Pond
Memories
Ponds
December
Breath
Breaths
Clouding
Winter
Obscuring
Memory
Frosting
Summer
Pane

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When I think of you it's with tears, because no one else has such delicate hands that can reach into my soul and calm my fears.
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A sensual life is a ghostly existence where you live on the surface and your soul passes through everything, touching nothing.
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Ambition or contentment? This simple question led me back to a more balanced view of life and put me in touch with the Me I used to know.
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Here's what I've learned - people will hurt you, but you don't have to respond: Not every mean comment or cruel act deserves to be noticed.
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I'm not afraid of the opinions of others - but of being needed and coming up short.
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I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists
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The religion of the heart is as intimate as a wish breathed to the night sky.
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