Sometimes nature gives us the means to connect to those we long for.
It is my soul reaching out to you, a haunting, keening of longing spirit. You are so missed by this woman, You intoxicate my senses, still so alive from your touch. The waves are my arms beckoning you to me. The wind is the whisper of entreaties calling you to come. The sun is the warmth of my physical being reaching for you, warming your passions. The sands are the soft resting place which is our bed to love on. These images are the ocean that will always bring your spirit to me.
The experience of a young adult trying to figure out what they want to do for employment or education can be overwhelming. My book will give them insight to what it means to be a carpenter. And the progress unions have made in discrimination.
Ge
This book has been eight years in the making. It is mostly a jumble of thoughts written down in old spiral notebooks and hidden in the bottom drawer underneath various manuals for software packages and hardware long since turned obsolete.
The experience of a young adult trying to figure out what they want to do for employment or education can be overwhelming. My book will give them insight to what it means to be a carpenter. And the progress unions have made in discrimination.
Ge
It is my soul reaching out to you, a haunting, keening of longing spirit. You are so missed by this woman, You intoxicate my senses, still so alive from your touch. The waves are my arms beckoning you to me. The wind is the whisper of entreaties calling you to come. The sun is the warmth of my physical being reaching for you, warming your passions. The sands are the soft resting place which is our bed to love on. These images are the ocean that will always bring your spirit to me.
