My words are not with me:
They abandon me for thoughts.
Thoughts my own, not for another;
Best left to just decay and rot;
Or else to grow, all alone,
Where they’ll not beneath some foot be caught.
In the Garden
Published
"When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am…" –Maya Angelou
Writer In Retrospect 
In today’s world, words have become meaningless. It’s good to see that some people still care for them.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Heh… Sometimes. There are others who make much better caretakers. Yourself, for instance.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Flattery will get you anywhere.
LikeLiked by 1 person
š
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fortunately for us, you’ve chosen the latter path, Rachel. That’s exactly what you’ve been doing here.
How these vines thrive, defying the frost, just waiting to soak up the growing season’s advancing balminess.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Defying the frost… Hehe… yes, well — the cold never bothered me anyway. Though, you know, the former path, It’s not like I’ve entirely… Let It Go. š Really though, there’s still many a thought I’ve betrayed and left to die. Some of them deserved it
LikeLiked by 1 person
Some, maybe, bust most…well, we only can sigh at what’s been lost to the mists.
Or has it? Perhaps a resurrection is in order. It’ll be spring soon, after all.
LikeLiked by 1 person