You, for love of whom I am become as new-dug clay Mold me... With the waters & the wheel of yourself shape my soul, for it is yours.
By Torey Seymour-Russell8 years ago in Poets
Tomorrow's love a promise I cannot make, for I know not what tomorrow brings and the efforts it would take. I have not known tomorrows joys
She would spend hours in the garden tending, hoeing, playing. She understood that seeds planted in the spring would not bear fruit till the fall,
bold strokes on an empty canvas photography and seeing existence through a photographer’s eye / angles shadings themes
