Of Hopes And Dreams.

In my hands are two Wishes which sleet through my being.

Wish #2

Such is my passion for this that the clunky pronouncements have yet to thwart my plans completely.

It is my THIRD attempt.

The string of reassuring rhythms has revived the notion - dormant since the last stumble - that success is within reach.

Amid the pace and breadth of what is to come, Hope rises to the occasion.

For the Greater Good.

Hope hastens to This Purpose. =)


Wish #1

The frail rose wilts in these hairline cracks.

Gently, a figure caresses its soft petals.

A trickle falls and disappears into the bud.

Scars run along and take liberties with the embedded flesh.

She dreams of twirling the rose in her hand.

Its thorns remain foreboding.

She clutches and searing pain follows, naturally.

But, the rose is in full bloom -

Her eyes sparkle at this very thought.

Then, she hesitates.

For would the rose thrive in her hands?

Would its thorns leave her in tatters once again?

She knows not.

Erstwhile, she glances at the rose and smiles ruefully.