The weathered woman behind the wood fence, who had performed many horticultural works of wonder, finally spotted her indispensable and previously misplaced whetted magic wand.
Those glorious grass stained gardening shears had a spongy black handle holding a bright blue oblong body with a very shiny, though completely worn out, pistachio shell-shaped springlock.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The distant sky blew cascading kisses of light from beyond the storm clouds and purposefully past the disrupting tree bough scions.
This receptive soul embraced the warmth as a sweven swept into my heart and flooded my empty being with a needed sanguine promise for tomorrow.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
During a shadowy walk up a one way street, I happened upon a previously unseen, mystical grave marker that the curved hill appeared to protectively eclipse.
Suddenly, I began to wonder if an interred spirit deliberately fabricated this chance encounter through a subliminal elbow poke to my senses.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The very chic yet empathetic woman wore a saturated black velvet hat, smeared fire engine red lipstick and ruined white silk gloves that stretched beyond her elbows.
A rather vacuous driver frantically searched for a way into the opulent white limousine where keys remained in the ignition and a dry umbrella sat untouched on the side leather seat.
Written by Edward Roads
This morning I noticed several stones had fallen out of favor with a well-built wall whose fortification bound the breadth of the rolling hillside.
Perhaps the sunder rocks were withering masonry misfits that got pushed aside by the special strength of resplendent sunbeams.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The yellow and brown flowered comforter on the queen bed closely matched the drawn drapes at the open window next to a single reclining chair.
Straight line shadows on a plain painted wall scream silently from the spot where only yesterday bad motel art secreted an exquisite sixteenth century frame.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The weather-beaten iron barrier, bordering a cobblestone framework at the rim of the road, was primarily placed as protection for the flourishing life within.
However, the prospering pink congregation continued to grow vivaciously and soon flounced into the unsafe space beyond bars and blossom.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The long counter, where the children sat, was strewn with strawberry jam, powdered sugar, chocolate and an untouched single stack of napkins.
As each silver stool swiveled beneath them, it was obvious the kids were the quiet ones in an otherwise clamorous and caffeine fueled coffee shop.
Written by Edward Roads
The blind man wearing a faded blue fully buttoned polo waited mirthfully at the dusty bus stop for a ride back to the home.
His lighthearted presence with other potential passengers spoke of a day filled with sensory wonderment and a dauntless spirit for living life.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
It is fascinating yet disheartening that suppressed vitriol surfaces during festive events with nonthinking disgruntled relatives.
Unintended arrows housed in the family quiver stand poison poised awaiting a catalyst to ignite an inevitable launch that cannot be aborted.
(I awoke from this dream and jotted it down)
Written by Edward Roads
This morning as the sun slid behind a deck of ominous clouds, I wandered down a clean dirt path that seemed to split a green landscape exactly in half.
I wasn’t completely sure if I had been to this part of town before, but the unusually fresh air and tall waving flowers welcomed a return if I could lose myself once again.
Written by Edward Roads
Mytwosentences 