I love morning light; how it filters through the window, touching faux bamboo leaves, somehow adding life where there was none, bringing depth to the slightly crooked lampshade. I can’t say I understand it, but I feel something when I gaze at the light and shadow. Funny how a little thing like sunlight…a touch of God perhaps…can make an otherwise insignificant corner of the room captivating.
Sheba greeted me joyfully, golden clumps of matted fur tousling as she lumbered toward me. It struck me then how much like a lion she looked, though she couldn’t hide her goofy and lovable doggish charm. I reached out my hand for a nuzzle as I jogged down the farm road, and she danced beside me to match my pace, longing for a good scratch behind the ear. She and I ran together for a short way before she stopped to return to her guard-post. I knew she’d be waiting for me when I returned, though, and that brought me a little bit of joy.
We named him Mr. Miyagi because he taught us how to fish. The little guy was a master; a true sensei! He would soar, then dive, then splash, and up he would come with his prize, every time.
For some reason, his method never worked for us.
Oh Kentucky sunrise,
What a pleasant surprise.
I thought Texas was good
Til I met you.
I don’t need to search the Earth to find what I’m looking for.
They call Kentucky the blue grass state, but from my experience, the grass is greener here.
A rattle, a racket, a whoosh, and a whirr, then deafening silence right after the stir.
Simply Put Stories 