junecleavage

Sometimes when I sit down at the keyboard to type I approach it as though I am sitting before a piano...composing a concerto. While the melodies may be hard to distinguish we can make symphonies of words given the time.
My symphonies used to be dark and foreboding, deep oboe filled angst and lilting flute losses. Long, wistful cello years and far too many saxophone soliloquy nights.
But anymore the collective harmonizing violins rise to the tales of the beautiful children we have created and their harpsichord adventures, our trumpet filled days and our jazz fusion nights in this, our orchestral lives.
For this, I am thankful.