I speak them. 

            Always far too easily and often, far too carelessly they move across my lips.

I write them. 

            Habitually and abundantly too many of them make it on a page. 

I type them. 

            Inevitably in fear wondering if anyone truly wants to read them.


Words live no matter how carelessly, how abundantly, how fearfully they are spoken, written or typed.  They breathe beyond their moment and often far beyond intent.

It is my hope to bring words that are good – His, others or mine.   May they bring unexpected joy to the one who stops to read.

May the screen be my paper and may my heart beat with His.


Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~William Wordsworth

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