You’re life is blank,
Like a ship that sank,
Into the deep,
Don’t know what to find,
Don’t know what to seek.
One foot on the gas,
One foot on the break,
Two different roads but which one to take?
The rest of your life’s pages are blank.
This is a picture of the baby broiler chicks I raised in 2003. It's early January, and the temperature outside the coop is probably in the mid-30s, so they've nestled together under the heat of a brooder lamp to stay toasty warm. I like this picture for how content and peaceful the birds look.
Varian reined in as he spotted the oak tree ahead. It was so huge, he doubted that Jevran and he together could get their arms around its girth. He dismounted, glanced around, and whistled part of a Highlander song that Kerrin had taught him. The words ran in his head as he waited for the answering whistle.
I’ve been thinking and isn’t it funny how the preteens/teens on apricotpie have odd pictures. I really like odd pictures to but I’m not creative enough to think of some that haven’t already been thought of! lol.
Here are a few users who have odd pictures: Tamerah, Moira, Anna [who has the one of her blowing a bubble and then her in her room it appears on a skate board in a cluttered room with a electric guitar] and Mathew’s is just plain silly [I actually like it] but I’m sure there are more I don’t know about.
At the end now
falling down now
giving up now
all for you
Changed and broken
left and shaken
now awakened
to your love
Peace has washed me
clean of worry
all of me
is all for you, and
one day coming
I'll come running
home
Prologue
There was nothing stirring on that Starless night in the Forest, except in one small secret Vale.
Feet up on the dash
Wiggling my toes
10 splashes of Kiss Me Coral
- orangey sparkly rose –
Delight me so
Fresh cotton smell,
Tickles my nose
Pillow warmed from the sun
Smashed against the window
(Be kind! I haven't written anything like this for a really long time! :D )
As I Look Upon the Cross
As I look upon the Cross I
See His Body pierced by nails,
Ripped by scourging,
All done by my sins.
As I look upon the Cross I
See the Crown of
Thorns so cruelly thrust upon His Head, the
Agony of His Eyes,
All done by my sins.
As I look upon the Cross I
See the Blood stinging His Eyes,
Sweat mingling with tears,
All done by my sins.
In the small dark village of Yakathaim
Near the edge of blackness vale
I spied a bronzen man who came
O’re the rocky mountain trail
His boots were cov’ed in gritty dust
His hands were worn and rough
His sword was red with years of rust
And His voice was thick and gruff
“Ho, thou long worn traveling-man,”
I hailed him on the road,
“Come hence, I’ll give thee a hand,
And rest awhile thy load.”