Artwork and poem by Sandra S. Corona copyright 2003
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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
When Miranda Nolan inherits a house she soon discovers a need to solve the mysteries surrounding the late owner along with resolving the strong attraction she feels for a co-claimant who lost his hearing and faces a world of silence.
When Sophie Bayles inadvertently ruins a young man’s chance for employment, she sets out to find him a new position. Even though he doesn’t want her to.
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