Blue sails pearl her dreams. Perhaps, he’d become a seafarer without time for farewell. He’d debark with a sack of treasure on his back, moonstones harvested from night mines, urns of green oil smelling like summer grass, a wooden box of promises kept, a smile on his lovesick face.
Short and sweet today as the Overlord is joining grammy and grampy for the weekend (his mama has a cold). Bear with me as my blog presence will be somewhat curtailed by a requirement to play 🙂