My World Of Australiana, Fun And Adventure. This is the last of my presentations of my Matchstick carvings that I have accumulated during my travels throughout Chile South America. My friend Glenn has taken considerable time and effort to photograph each piece to a standard for viewer appreciation through photography, each piece is carved individually, some are Religious themes, some sporting and some of the Arts.

A World Where Fantasies Are Real And Dreams Do Come True. Tu conosci me mio tesoro. Per te sei il custode. Per una volta siamo andati a piedi. In tempi di molto tempo. Per una volta dentro le mie braccia. I Hero A Young Girls Dreams. E chiuso dentro la mia anima. Sei ancora nei miei sogni.

On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea. All Is One With Our Creator. More Small Stones for 2013.

Building a Cairn of Small Stones and other random musings. How hard life must have been. How soft we have become. Towards the end of last year that core of five was whittled down to three due to age and illness of two of our members. On top of that I was away for most .

Tales, Trails and Connections to Almost Anything. LOST PORTRAIT OF MY FATHER. ACRYLIC ON CANVAS BY CHERYL LYLES SMITH. Today times have changed and few people burn prickly pear. The pear burner was invented in 1914 by John Bunyan Blackwell. A photo of one can be seen at the Bullock Museum website. Here is a close-up of prickly pear cactus so you can see the sharp thorns. Here is a cluster of them together with the red fruit or tuna. SNOW ON THE COAST! December 8, 2017.

Wednesday, 8 November 2017. My last poem for the year as a busy time at work and home is coming up. It is going to be a good one. They set in a safe distance on a bench in the park,. The morning sun crawling along the horizon eager to. To find them in its sight. Than fired a fountain of words onto each other, which.

Friday, 14 April 2017. Composed, Hyde, 1st November 2015. 2016 Ackworth born gone West. A contribution to Skywatch Friday. Sunday, 18 September 2016. In the boot of the car. Composed Llandudno, 18th September 2015.

White Water - Fridge Poem I. I decided to take a picture and challenge myself to making a new one every day. I doubt they will all find their way here, but this one did. Saturday, 11 February 2012. Goes down as deep as her bones. Oh, she clothes it well, with optimistic flesh,.

I just sit upon a writing desk, and write. And then, I tell stories. If I could turn back the clock. Frozen in time, but never undone. Spoken in haste, and forever hanging. In that space between the dimension. Through the tunnels of time. There is love that is overwhelming. It is not emptiness that remain. But bittersweet pain, the deep loss that knows. What will never be replaced.