Anthony W. Pahl
PETALS OF LETTERS
Oh, the joy that abounds in the myriad of perfumes of our poetic and inner secrecy. The open garden: what joy it is; the breeze that sends into our midst the scent of new words – silken in their meaning, innate in their love, mysterious in their origin and pure in their giving. Are we blessed? Are we blessed!
©Copyright April 16, 2001 by Anthony W. Pahl