I hold the garden.
The growth of hope
That turns to decay in its season

Efforts made in early and at last
Find empty their graces
Inside the folds of time I possess

I give fruit
And dismay
With my whims

Far from the reality
Grows the truth
That seeking men cannot find

Yet seeking
Is not amiss
For in seeking on found another

Be not dismayed
For I hold the garden
And growth, life will come in season

Its painfully obvious that I haven't been posting anything at all in a while. Not because I haven't been writing but rather that I have been working on my good stuff, trying to finish a couple of things and get published. I have sent one story out and got turned down but they gave me positive feedback, which was nice. I am trying another place that specializes in sorta what I do. We will see. If it gets published then I will tell all of you about it. If it doesn't, I am considering putting it up on the blog. It will have to be an attached PDF.

But I am also writing in the big story I am working on and the short story that I think will be really, very solid. Hope to have something to report soon, one way or another.

Ted