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A long time ago, when knights were bold, I chanced upon a stranger. Cloaked and hood, far from good, nor evil stood his way. Standing as one, who had no sight, far down upon the roads of life. I came yet closer, then closer still. not yet totally of my will. The sights he showed me, most things, they whoa'ed And yet I stood their fill. Then no more was he, the sorrow of this stranger. the past, the present, the yet to be? Came very, very close to me. Just so that I may see, who I am, and who I, am supposed to be.

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Caryl Muzzey

Date: 8/27/2019 10:10:00 AM

I love the medieval romance you portray in your writing. So many have forgotten the meaning of true love. Great write. ~ Caryl

Ann Foster
Date: 8/27/2019 2:15:00 PM

Romance, truly a spice to add daily to our lives. Without...we lose something significant. It can also manifest as passion for something or someone, but not in a sex way, as much as kindness, closeness, sweetness, and/or? (soulmate, equally yoked) Hope you have a wonderful day. Butterflies, nice bees and flowers that bloom, all night...pleasantly.

Sand Blown

Date: 7/12/2019 10:12:00 AM

reads like it should be whispered... "Just so that I may see, who I am, and who I, am supposed to be"...it is difficult to escape the above circularity; unless the one who 'thinks' separates themselves from the 'action' of thinking and simply contemplates what appears a 'difference' (sorry for the ramble...i do that : )

Ann Foster
Date: 7/13/2019 4:15:00 PM

I love to ramble. It is the beginnings of genius. Thank you so much for your kind comments. Ann

Caren Krutsinger

Date: 7/12/2019 10:01:00 AM

This appeals to the belief of mine that we become more "of ourselves" and our "best selves" when we find our forever-person.