Fermented stories were always the most interesting at the dinner table.

Wisdom tumbled from unlikely beginnings.

Remedies rolled down the hill and in through the kitchen door.

Sawdust was the greatest gift; a shortage made it valuable

The tuning fork never lies.

.’.’.’.’.

.

Crumpled paper and pages of renewal.

We read the whole book in seconds.

Crackling of crinkled paper, a warm fire and flickering of hope.

Every day.

Re-start, flirt with perfection and adopt the recent reflection.

V–V–V–V

Two items, two bites and an olive tree.

Are they commensurate with your experience.

Those roles we play.

Those speehes we make.

The elders speak to the young.

The older listeners learn from the young by listening to what they recommend, then realizing what good ideas they just uttered.

Read, read out loud, and discuss.

There are people like us.

Bright reflections in kind eyes.

..o..o..o..

Were they celebrating strumming, humming or something…?

Greeted well, and high as hell, on a golden swell.

Don’t let the words mean more than they used to. We talk of altitude, mountains and valleys, not an approximation of intoxication.

So many times they mentioned dreams as if they were a new color of paint or a wall texture interior design finish.

But why not, there are so many of them…textures and dreams.

A beat sounded outrageously crude, but even in our starched collars and pinstripe (revivals every other year) suits we could not stand still and started swaying and ogling, dancing even.

Yes….absolutely time to celebrate.!

<>o<>

A princess  found a Prince who had been lost since the silver ages.

Golden days and diamond moments followed.

Every breeze hinted of jasmine with mint undertones.

Shall we dine or dance?

My lady you are in charge, said he.

Before she gave the instructions for all to follow, she asked questions as to what they dreamed of being tomorrow.

There are moments of laser-sharp clarity while sitting on the dock, watching dolphins play, directing yachts this way.

The farm guests were still playing in the hay.

Horses were trotting and cantering with every new day.

No question about it.

///\\\