You draw me near, hands on my waist, The music serenadesĀ us slowly, while the world around us runs in haste. Interlaced within its notes is a spell we cannot run from. So with each breath and thrum in our veins we succumb. Your lips move closer to my ear, as you hum its haunting tune, … Continue reading Serenade


Her hands are magic, delicately placing bits and pieces in the right place, Drawing, writing, weaving everything into beauty with such grace. How she does it with next to no effort is beyond me, it's something I strive to learn, With patience and practice she always says, such magic has to be earned. Her eyes … Continue reading Home