Artwork and poem by Sandra S. Corona copyright 2003
********************
If love were a river, would it dry up or flow?
Would we dam it for profit or let it just go
regardless of season?
Everything has purpose, exists for a reason ...
trying to control what should have freedom is treason!
Love is a river ... wide
that cleanses our bodies where it touches inside.
Dissatifaction can run but it cannot hide.
Hate, purged, leaves us aglow.
We become streams where the river of love can't flow.
You can nourish it with tears when'er you feel low.
Yet the water's pristine ...
watched over by sweet angels who keep it pure and clean ..
cascading purity leaves us washed, serene
A search for the ghost of a chorus girl chorine haunting a costume designer’s Manhattan apartment leads to an encounter with an eccentric, mischievous witch with the ability to send folks back through time…in this case, the 1919 Ziegfeld Follies.
Crystal Reed thought she had met the perfect man. Instead she finds herself entangled in a web of obsessive love and dark secrets, a world that has become tainted by deception and treachery.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
