| Frustration occurs when the expectations of high principles run into the brick walls of shortsightedness, fluid compromise, and greed. |
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Sunday, June 21, 2009
Today's Tendril...
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Friday, June 19, 2009
My Daily Tendrils
Balance. Clarity. Focus. Serenity.
My daily grails.
Strength. Courage. Endurance. Regulation.
My daily prayers.
Faith. Hope. Love. Dreams. Family.
My daily fuel.
My daily breaths.
My daily bread.
My daily grails.
Strength. Courage. Endurance. Regulation.
My daily prayers.
Faith. Hope. Love. Dreams. Family.
My daily fuel.
My daily breaths.
My daily bread.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Monday, June 08, 2009
On the Inside (Sadness Part 3)
"Sometimes I feel overwhelmed," he said, his eyes fixed to the floor.
"I know you do," she whispered.
"Then I think of you – and I smile." A tear slid down his cheek.
She cupped his face in her soft, warm hands, brought his eyes to hers, and said, "As long as I'm in your heart, then let the world stay outside. We'll be inside, together, where nothing can hurt us. Not now. Not ever."
He smiled.
She smiled.
And for a little while, the world became their smiles — at least on the inside.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
"I know you do," she whispered.
"Then I think of you – and I smile." A tear slid down his cheek.
She cupped his face in her soft, warm hands, brought his eyes to hers, and said, "As long as I'm in your heart, then let the world stay outside. We'll be inside, together, where nothing can hurt us. Not now. Not ever."
He smiled.
She smiled.
And for a little while, the world became their smiles — at least on the inside.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
The Ghosts of Sorrow (Sadness Part 2)
An open switch,
An open wound.
Those vacant eyes,
A soul marooned.
Constricted hope,
And drying tears.
There's no relief,
From deathbed fears.
No hands to hold,
No fight remains.
What prayers to say?
When the spirit wanes.
An open wound.
Those vacant eyes,
A soul marooned.
Constricted hope,
And drying tears.
There's no relief,
From deathbed fears.
No hands to hold,
No fight remains.
What prayers to say?
When the spirit wanes.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
A Breath Away from Dust (Sadness Part 1)
Once upon a time the man in the mirror was a child.
A child with tireless hands,
a strong heart,
and access to an endless garden of ever ripening fruit.
But the vine of intention has long since withered,
its roots receded;
decayed.
The endless garden is now but a patch of brown,
a poor plot of earth,
and just a breeze
and a breath
away from dust.
Once upon a time the mirror held a child.
Now all that remains are wrinkles of worry,
bags of regret,
a fixed frown,
and a lifetime of lists—
lists that only hold a handful of checkmarks.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
A child with tireless hands,
a strong heart,
and access to an endless garden of ever ripening fruit.
But the vine of intention has long since withered,
its roots receded;
decayed.
The endless garden is now but a patch of brown,
a poor plot of earth,
and just a breeze
and a breath
away from dust.
Once upon a time the mirror held a child.
Now all that remains are wrinkles of worry,
bags of regret,
a fixed frown,
and a lifetime of lists—
lists that only hold a handful of checkmarks.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Friday, June 05, 2009
Today's Tendril...
Buffering reality one thought at a time,
And twisting them out of their tight
mental shell.
On paper, on screen, in folders and files,
All pieces of me,
And each in its cell.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
And twisting them out of their tight
mental shell.
On paper, on screen, in folders and files,
All pieces of me,
And each in its cell.
Alternate Version
Buffering reality one thought at a time,
Then twisting them out of the grey-matter shell.
On paper, on screen, in folders and files,
A lifetime of progress,
A path I know well.
Then twisting them out of the grey-matter shell.
On paper, on screen, in folders and files,
A lifetime of progress,
A path I know well.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Friday, May 29, 2009
Today's Tendril...
| God, guide me in the way of little things, so that I can find the footprints of serenity in the vastness of the day. |
Alternate Version
God, guide me in the way of little things, so that I might find a path away from the colossal maw of the ever present now.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Thursday, May 28, 2009
Status! State! Fried.
About
The status of any project (personal, professional, recreational, etc.) can be reduced to various states of green, yellow, and red.
The status path is colored black and blue.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Monday, May 25, 2009
// Saturday, May 23, 2009
Today's Tendril...
| Reclaiming my balance one thought, one dream, and one Tendril at a time. |
Alternate Version
Reclaiming my balance one thought, one dream, and one prayer at a time.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Saturday, May 16, 2009
Tendrils 4
Nothing "pushes the envelope" quite like inspiration; aggravation; desperation.
Bend, but do not break.
Hold, but do not take.
Speak, but do not lie.
Help, but do not pry.
The pragmatist and the opportunist differ only in their perceptions of need versus greed.
Practice is the art of learning how not to think, but to do; to act with precision, endurance, and excellence.
The perks of loyalty are best enjoyed quietly.
Watching the news is like poking a wound – it hurts, but you do it anyway.
Under extreme pressure absolutes tend to become one of two things: absolute knots or absolutely nots.
A good idea is often a casualty of committee.
There's a fine line between "love it" and "covet."
Having a belief is easy.
Living a belief is hard.
Nothing is true until you believe it.
Every sincere smile is a message from the heart and cannot be contained behind a mask.
Every kiss is an invitation, an obstacle, and a commitment.
Everything that is learned about the soul—everything that we are drawn to, everything that repels us—either brings us closer to a union of dreams and reality, or creates an emotional chasm a thousand tears wide.
Some days I feel like the string between two (dented) tin cans.
Having a bird's-eye-view doesn't give you the right to sh*t on the world.
God, catch my tears, cleanse them, and then baptize me with their purity – Your purity.
Let the tears of Heaven rain down upon me.
I'll wait for the rainbow.
I always have.
I always will.
If you want to be free of your demons, then do not give them a place to roost in the heart, mind, and soul.
Ideas once written can become like flesh – and bitten.
Frustration: Trying to rise to the occasion, only to be brought down by the stupidity of others.
Do you think God created goldfish, in part, to help parents teach children about death, loss, and sadness?
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
Bend, but do not break.
Hold, but do not take.
Speak, but do not lie.
Help, but do not pry.
The pragmatist and the opportunist differ only in their perceptions of need versus greed.
Practice is the art of learning how not to think, but to do; to act with precision, endurance, and excellence.
The perks of loyalty are best enjoyed quietly.
Watching the news is like poking a wound – it hurts, but you do it anyway.
Under extreme pressure absolutes tend to become one of two things: absolute knots or absolutely nots.
A good idea is often a casualty of committee.
There's a fine line between "love it" and "covet."
Having a belief is easy.
Living a belief is hard.
Nothing is true until you believe it.
Every sincere smile is a message from the heart and cannot be contained behind a mask.
Every kiss is an invitation, an obstacle, and a commitment.
Everything that is learned about the soul—everything that we are drawn to, everything that repels us—either brings us closer to a union of dreams and reality, or creates an emotional chasm a thousand tears wide.
Some days I feel like the string between two (dented) tin cans.
Having a bird's-eye-view doesn't give you the right to sh*t on the world.
God, catch my tears, cleanse them, and then baptize me with their purity – Your purity.
Let the tears of Heaven rain down upon me.
I'll wait for the rainbow.
I always have.
I always will.
If you want to be free of your demons, then do not give them a place to roost in the heart, mind, and soul.
Ideas once written can become like flesh – and bitten.
Frustration: Trying to rise to the occasion, only to be brought down by the stupidity of others.
Do you think God created goldfish, in part, to help parents teach children about death, loss, and sadness?
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Friday, May 15, 2009
Tag, Scan, Succumb
"It was inevitable," he said, in a sad, despairing voice.
"What was inevitable," she asked cautiously; afraid in advance of what he might say.
"That our molecules would be tagged with barcodes. That our lives would be like commodities. They're trying to track our soul-stuff, Olivia," bemoaned Kane, who was now noticeably irritated. "They're trying to put Big Brother right into our very atoms."
With a sudden intensity, Kane added, "They're marking us all, Olivia. Making us into their things. Don't you see that? They want to craft individuality as they see fit. They want nothing less than the ability to enforce selective uniqueness."
Then, with a new found resolve, Kane added through clenched teeth, "Tag, scan, succumb—that's their master plan. I can't allow that to happen, Olivia. I just can't. They must be stopped. They must be...punished."
Designer genes express the arrogance of man.
Will Angels use scanners at the Pearly Gates?
Privacy today is a like a unicorn — a myth and a dream.
They say that your sense of identity comes from within; that it's what's inside that counts. Barcodes in our bodies turn the sense of self into a sense of societal control.
"So there I was, just relaxing on the beach, when I felt something in my palms. Not touching me, mind you. Nothing like sand or water against my skin, but something in my skin. I looked at my palms and was horrified. My skin was raised slightly, and red, and formed this: Sunblock patent SB-VGFU-YUL343341. Restricted public use."
"Price check on intelligence cells - aisle four."
You have been scanned and we have determined that several of your parts are damaged; several are obsolete. Therefore, you are damaged. You are obsolete. You will be erased for the greater good.
Barcodes serve a critical purpose and I can't imagine modern business without them. I just don't want them in me.
A vignette and a batch of Tendrils, all loosely coupled by barcoding.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
"What was inevitable," she asked cautiously; afraid in advance of what he might say.
"That our molecules would be tagged with barcodes. That our lives would be like commodities. They're trying to track our soul-stuff, Olivia," bemoaned Kane, who was now noticeably irritated. "They're trying to put Big Brother right into our very atoms."
With a sudden intensity, Kane added, "They're marking us all, Olivia. Making us into their things. Don't you see that? They want to craft individuality as they see fit. They want nothing less than the ability to enforce selective uniqueness."
Then, with a new found resolve, Kane added through clenched teeth, "Tag, scan, succumb—that's their master plan. I can't allow that to happen, Olivia. I just can't. They must be stopped. They must be...punished."
Tendrils
Designer genes express the arrogance of man.
Will Angels use scanners at the Pearly Gates?
Privacy today is a like a unicorn — a myth and a dream.
They say that your sense of identity comes from within; that it's what's inside that counts. Barcodes in our bodies turn the sense of self into a sense of societal control.
"So there I was, just relaxing on the beach, when I felt something in my palms. Not touching me, mind you. Nothing like sand or water against my skin, but something in my skin. I looked at my palms and was horrified. My skin was raised slightly, and red, and formed this: Sunblock patent SB-VGFU-YUL343341. Restricted public use."
"Price check on intelligence cells - aisle four."
You have been scanned and we have determined that several of your parts are damaged; several are obsolete. Therefore, you are damaged. You are obsolete. You will be erased for the greater good.
Barcodes serve a critical purpose and I can't imagine modern business without them. I just don't want them in me.
About
A vignette and a batch of Tendrils, all loosely coupled by barcoding.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
This text composition is a work of fiction. Names, places, institutions, events, incidents, characters, persons, locations, and/or organizations either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Full Creative Writing Disclaimer.
// Sunday, May 10, 2009
Between Two Ends
I'm alone,
but I'm alive.
I'll lament,
but I'll survive.
Sometimes down,
but never out,
I'll defy,
this crushing doubt.
Faith in God,
helps keep me sane.
I'll lick my wounds,
and use their pain.
And day by day,
I'll make my way,
Back to the dream,
I sent away.
I'LL BE ME,
Between two ends!
but I'm alive.
I'll lament,
but I'll survive.
Sometimes down,
but never out,
I'll defy,
this crushing doubt.
Faith in God,
helps keep me sane.
I'll lick my wounds,
and use their pain.
And day by day,
I'll make my way,
Back to the dream,
I sent away.
I'LL BE ME,
Between two ends!
Dedicated to all that: (1) are to the left or to the right of the so-called "center," (2) won't give in to the pressures of the crowd, (3) refuse to bow down to those that abuse their positions of authority, and (4) march to the beat of their own drummers (and thus considered misfits or outsiders).
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Saturday, May 09, 2009
// Thursday, May 07, 2009
The God Green
The world seems unusually vivid today,
even though the sky is a soft expanse of undifferentiated grey,
and a steady drizzle is creating an illusion of nearly invisible lines,
shifting and sliding
with the slightest breeze.
And then there's the green.
The type of green that only appears in Spring.
The virgin green.
It is seen in the plants,
the trees,
and the grass.
This is the green we mourn in Autumn,
and can't wait to see again
when the whiteness of Winter
swallows our feet.
This is the green we recall at the peak of Summer,
as the Sun bleaches,
and burns,
and browns,
all that it touches.
This is God green.
And I am an ant on a leaf in the rain…
Weather and the world outside my window; another "mood of the day" piece.
A true story, except the part about being an ant. (Although, aren't there days when we all feel like an ant on a leaf in the rain?)
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
even though the sky is a soft expanse of undifferentiated grey,
and a steady drizzle is creating an illusion of nearly invisible lines,
shifting and sliding
with the slightest breeze.
And then there's the green.
The type of green that only appears in Spring.
The virgin green.
It is seen in the plants,
the trees,
and the grass.
This is the green we mourn in Autumn,
and can't wait to see again
when the whiteness of Winter
swallows our feet.
This is the green we recall at the peak of Summer,
as the Sun bleaches,
and burns,
and browns,
all that it touches.
This is God green.
And I am an ant on a leaf in the rain…
About
Weather and the world outside my window; another "mood of the day" piece.
A true story, except the part about being an ant. (Although, aren't there days when we all feel like an ant on a leaf in the rain?)
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Rabbit and Owl
| Rabbit | : | Why do you bother? |
| Owl | : | Bother with what? |
| Rabbit | : | With what you're doing. Your so-called "art." Why do you bother? |
| Owl | : | Because it serves the self. |
| Rabbit | : | So, what you're saying is that your art is self-serving. |
| Owl | : | No, I did not say that. |
| Rabbit | : | Yes you did! You just told me that your art is selfish. |
| Owl | : | No, you asked me why I do my art and I told you that it serves the self. I did not tell you that what I do is self-serving or selfish. You are the one that rearranged my answer to fit your interpretation. |
| Rabbit | : | Oh, come on. Serving the self or self serving, or even plain old being selfish, what's the difference? |
| Owl | : | The difference is as striking as the differences in sunlight and moonlight. |
| Rabbit | : | Oh, please. Now you're just playing with words. |
| Owl | : | No, I am not. I most certainly am not. |
| Rabbit | : | Yes. Yes you are. You're splitting hairs. |
| Owl | : | Trust me, you would know if I were splitting hairs. |
Somewhere in the distance a drummer plays a rimshot...
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Saturday, May 02, 2009
Ghost Demon
.tagsandtendrils.png "Ghost Demon (Up All Night) (c) Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved. insilentpassage.com")
"Don't look away, but do look in,
'cause there's always room for a little sin.
I'll whisper out a tempting sound,
and be on your shoulder,
till you turn around."
'cause there's always room for a little sin.
I'll whisper out a tempting sound,
and be on your shoulder,
till you turn around."
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
The Notebook Brothers
They write and create,
and doodle and devise,
because that is what they do.
They cannot separate that aspect of themselves anymore than a cloud can separate itself from the water and ice that make it a cloud.
Why it is a part of them,
and for what purpose,
is the ghost within them,
glimpsed only from the corners of their minds.
And the impression that remains is a source of frustration,
a vapor of stress,
and the tendrils of pain.
But it is through these things that they arrive at the wonder,
the joy,
and the intensity of creativity.
This is how they've amassed volumes of notebooks,
why they've spent endless hours deep within their pages,
and learned to live within the burning sphere of, "but for what purpose?"
The thoughts and "thinkerings" that flow from their minds,
and then captured in their ever opening-and-closing notebooks,
is who they are.
For them to do otherwise would be to live in a cell filled with a thousand pens,
but not a single notebook.
Dedicated to my Notebook Brother.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
and doodle and devise,
because that is what they do.
They cannot separate that aspect of themselves anymore than a cloud can separate itself from the water and ice that make it a cloud.
Why it is a part of them,
and for what purpose,
is the ghost within them,
glimpsed only from the corners of their minds.
And the impression that remains is a source of frustration,
a vapor of stress,
and the tendrils of pain.
But it is through these things that they arrive at the wonder,
the joy,
and the intensity of creativity.
This is how they've amassed volumes of notebooks,
why they've spent endless hours deep within their pages,
and learned to live within the burning sphere of, "but for what purpose?"
The thoughts and "thinkerings" that flow from their minds,
and then captured in their ever opening-and-closing notebooks,
is who they are.
For them to do otherwise would be to live in a cell filled with a thousand pens,
but not a single notebook.
Dedicated to my Notebook Brother.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Thursday, April 30, 2009
Life Lessons (Thus Far)
This is not intended to be a complete list; rather, it's a path forward by looking back.
After all, a "life lessons list" is a list forever in progress.
After all, a "life lessons list" is a list forever in progress.
- Sentiment in the absence of follow-through is emptiness.
- Stress is powerful and dangerous. Stress corrupts and disrupts. Stress is a demon and must be exorcised.
- Absolutes come in shades of grey.
- Pontification: Everyone does it, few admit to it, and even fewer do it with style.
- Sometimes you don't get what you pray for — and that's a good thing.
- Integrity, too often, is like a shooting star: a magnificent streak that cannot be held, and leaves no lasting mark.
- There are times when it's OK to be "context sensitive," for the sake of safety, sanctity, or sensuality.
- Doing a good job because it's the right thing to do has been trumped by doing a good job provided the price is right.
- Many people ride the wave of entitlement all the way to the shores of mediocrity.
- Sometimes humor really is the best medicine.
- Lies turn up when you least expect them, especially when they pop out of your own mouth.
- Naps are good.
- Perfunctory is a silly sounding word to kids and teenagers, and a performance rating for adults.
- Making progress can be a lot like squeezing blood from a stone.
- There is more wit and wisdom in the brevity of proverbs, one-liners, adages, quips, and quotes, than in the verbosity of tiring diatribes and endless expositions.
// Sunday, April 26, 2009
Not So Grey Matter
 |  |
 |  |
About
A fun little experiment based on a picture of an alien looking mushroom that appeared in a patch of grass overnight (in early Spring).
There was something seemingly sci-fi about that fungus.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Today's Forecast
Cloudy and grey, with a touch of blue, and a slight chance of dreams.
A stray rumble of inspiration may occur from time to time.
Melancholy index: Near 100%.
A stray rumble of inspiration may occur from time to time.
Melancholy index: Near 100%.
Dedicated to my wife, who is the sunshine on my melancholy days.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Monday, April 13, 2009
Quotes of the Day - Easter Sunday 2009
I always feel a bit eggistential this time of year.
To find your Easter baskets follow the rabbit droppings.
How does the Easter Bunny get into the house? Well, let's just say he's well versed in the fine arts of lock picking and tip-toeing.
Those are chocolate coins. They're good for one visit to the dentist.
What does the Easter Bunny have to do with God? Good question. Let's write to Santa and ask him.
Now kids, always remember to hide your lucky rabbit's foot on Easter eve.
These large chocolate Easter carrots look particularly phallic, which is probably the result of some marketeer's subliminal Spring fertility brainstorm campaign.
OK, which sadist decided it would be fun to hide camouflaged-colored eggs on a green lawn that's heavily peppered with brown leaves?
About
These all came from my mouth on Easter Sunday, 2009, primarily to entertain my wife, though the rest of the family seemed to enjoy them, too.
A little levity on an otherwise deeply reflective spiritual day.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Saturday, April 11, 2009
Faith Is Letterboard
About
I enjoy clever and thought-provoking messages on the signs outside of churches, lodges, schools, etc. Much wit and wisdom, sometimes with a touch of understated humor, can be expressed in only a few short lines.
I was able to realize the FIL image thanks to the generators provided by Ryland Sanders at says-it.com.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Friday, April 10, 2009
Nargosiden 3
Galactic stones rubbed smooth by the currents of time.
Petrified dinosaur eggs tucked into an ancient crevice.
Oblong water pilings moved into place by an eccentric sculptor.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Sunday, April 05, 2009
How I Feel as a Parent
 |
About
One of the greatest things about being a parent is this: knowing that your child or children see you as a kind of superhero.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
Tags and Tendrils
Part 1: The Somber Side
Chasing a rainbow beneath skies painted grey,As twisters of red spew rivers of crows.
Mindstorms and thoughtmares, the vivid unseen,
These tags and these tendrils are pieces of me.
Part 2: The Lighter Side
What can go tweet,With TaT now on Twitter?
What is like "gold,"
But doesn't have glitter?
A nugget of words,
Maybe two, maybe three,
These tags and these tendrils
Are pieces of me.
About
A poem for my Tags and Tendrils concept, my tagsandtendrils.com blog site (retired), my @tagsandtendrils Twitter presence (retired), and bits-and-pieces of me.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Saturday, April 04, 2009
In Mental Streams
In mental streams I swim.
On sky-swallowing tornadoes I ride.
Beneath starlight black I dream.
Between Heaven and Hell I slide.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
Seasons in Judgment
Scarecrow, scarecrow staked in a field,
Hanged for your power, evil must yield.
From dawn to dusk, through starlight black,
A patchwork protector by nail and by tack.
In rain or in snow, or bent by the wind,
Always a scowl for those that've sinned.
Come drought, come hail, come locusts and crows,
Judgment awaits for the deadliest foes.
In song and in prayer, in poem and charm,
"Scarecrow, my scarecrow, keep us from harm!"
Dedicated to my Notebook Brother.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
Hanged for your power, evil must yield.
From dawn to dusk, through starlight black,
A patchwork protector by nail and by tack.
In rain or in snow, or bent by the wind,
Always a scowl for those that've sinned.
Come drought, come hail, come locusts and crows,
Judgment awaits for the deadliest foes.
In song and in prayer, in poem and charm,
"Scarecrow, my scarecrow, keep us from harm!"
Dedicated to my Notebook Brother.
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
// Thursday, April 02, 2009
Little Rag Doll
Little rag doll,
sewn and patched,
forgotten at the back of the closet,
what do you dream?
What do you miss?
What do you want more than anything in the world?
To be carried once again,
in loving arms,
from here to there and to everywhere.
To be held tightly
when night falls,
or thunder rolls,
or a fever rises high and chases away the smile inside.
A hug.
A smile.
One more, "I love you."
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
sewn and patched,
forgotten at the back of the closet,
what do you dream?
What do you miss?
What do you want more than anything in the world?
To be carried once again,
in loving arms,
from here to there and to everywhere.
To be held tightly
when night falls,
or thunder rolls,
or a fever rises high and chases away the smile inside.
A hug.
A smile.
One more, "I love you."
© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
This text composition is a work of fiction. Names, places, institutions, events, incidents, characters, persons, locations, and/or organizations either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Full Creative Writing Disclaimer.