The mark upon the Hawthorn branch Points silently to the Oak Which alone stands within The very heart of the grove Carved upon the tree Sometime ages and ages hence Yet still visible but only for those Whose trained eyes know where to look For they know Who really is "Friend of my soul" ⁂


His brow furrowed when he saw the penmanship. He could usually tell exactly how she was by her hand. This note was wasn't her normal everyday perfection. There was an urgency and something else he couldn't pinpoint. It intrigued him.⁂ Sammi Scribbles Weekend Writing Prompt Ergo... Use the word furrowed and write a piece in … Continue reading Furrowed


She saw his silhouette through the window. It had been an age and a half, maybe two, since they'd seen each other and yet she knew him the instant she saw his profile. He was exactly as he had always been, exactly as she remembered. Even if it had been a lifetime, she still would … Continue reading Silhouette

Throwing Pebbles

I throw pebbles at your windows When too silent you have been And you marvel at the things I know Despite what I have not seen . You throw pebbles at my windows And I wonder how you know Exactly what I need to hear To make my soul's shine glow


One sits afar off Quietly watching Gathering intelligence Listening to the chatter Often saying little at all Except where perspective And wisdom are needed Then lending quick responses That verify and validate The path that's already known