Lock out of love and the softest thing is the pillow as bars.

Your reply is better than the poem. THank you, Fia.
j.

Fabulous been there done that
Loved it I can relate

Lots of truth in this, j. Great metaphor.

Not exactly the plan: a double bed, the making and filling of it should be, can be, a nest made by two for two, a love-in forever. Fine writing, fine metaphor as ever, sir jacob.

A less than warm bed room scene, just missing the Keep Out sign. Relatable to many dear J. The blues indeed. Great metaphors as usual.

Chris

Cleverly penned, Jacob. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

It kinda read like getting stuck in a spiderweb. Amazing write!

Hoi hoi Chère E.,
Being Dutch, I love the rain when it pours into the North Sea. I admit you’ve won me over.
Your lovely write softens my heart and the more than lovely artwork does the rest.
Please, keep them coming!
Kind regards, Gus

Sir, as Autumn sheds its leaves, metallic golds an’ brass will live their last before collection, storage in bins, bags or covered heaps. Here an’ there working their best in the dark but – preparing to light another season’s spirit and – soul-like soil! 🙂

I used to love to play out in the rain when I was a child. I must still be, because I still love rain and will walk very slowly through it when I go to my car from my house or vice-versa.
Is it God crying? I doubt it…He is probably dousing us with it to cleanse our hearts and souls.
Nice write, em.
j.

Brought me memories of the sound of rain on a tin roof at our old house, and the smell of petrichor. A wonderful write! “)

Many, many thank yous, M.E! Enjoy your happiness.