Her Love Foretells
By Sarah Graham She gazes, transfixed On Him. On Him, whose umbilical cord Still pulses with her blood. Whose lips pucker, rooting, Head bobs, searching. He, whose Word Made her.
By Sarah Graham She gazes, transfixed On Him. On Him, whose umbilical cord Still pulses with her blood. Whose lips pucker, rooting, Head bobs, searching. He, whose Word Made her.
Written by Helen Brooke, Illustrated by Allison Dumper The day I started high school my family moved to a property with more than a dozen well-established grapevines. Tending them became
Join us for our church-wide celebration of the arts at the RezArts Festival Exhibit, Saturday, January 28, 2-4pm. Enjoy a gallery display of original works by artists of all ages.
Gentle pressure on my chest. His head resting on my heart. Still, I feel baby breath rapid on my stomach rise and fall. My arms encircle warmth, holding close. Hands
What does a flower do but bloom and die As rose petals do fall among the thorns And some buds fail to bloom, where is the life? My friends, for