Sonata reminds me of my teenage years when I took piano lessons. For hours I played and played again Falling Waters until I thought no one else could ever play it that well. But alas, the old upright piano is probably somewhere now in an antigue place, and I have long since forgotten all of that piece. I can still, at age 85, play part of it if I ever have a chance to touch those ivories again. Thank you for Sonata, Naomi, to dredge up memories of long ago and a time of peace in a full house of sisters and brothers on the prairie in South Dakota. Emma
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
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Sandie May Angel