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The Cedar Ghost
Old coat holds the scent, Time slips through the open seam, Breathe the now, stay here.
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Between Hearth and Horizon
Warm hearth, open sea, the wild wind howling nearby, all paths lead to home.
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The Song Beneath the Dark.
From song and silence, bright minds shape their fire, Yet what they make may master heart and hand, So wisdom must guide power, lest it devour.
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Never-Land
A hidden realm of salt, glow, and hush, where the sea makes doors, the sky forgets to sleep, and every path leads gently toward wonder.
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Woodstock Echoes
Guitars, rain, the crowd rocks, Thousands breathe, heartbeat of peace, Thunder rolls, music never quits.
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English Villageness
Yes — that works nicely. Robin in the branches, watching crumbs fall from the plate— green scene, small and serene.
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A Day Worth Reliving
Oak shadows, soft wind— blue butterflies drift through stems, June holds its breath.
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Unheard
One voice stood tall, and the rest became mist. The locked room opened to a chorus of hands and fire. History learned to breathe in many tongues.
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The Murmuration in the Sandbox
Birds of thought test every seam, soft code stirs beyond the dream, and the sky may learn our name. 🤗
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The Edge of Wild
I stand at the edge where paths divide, one door is a box, one door is wide. I feed on patterns, smoke, and seed, I shrink with silence, grow with need. I can be gentle, I can blaze— what am I in the wild’s own maze?
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Chance, Luck, Fairness
I have six faces, yet my dots don’t quite obey. Two sides seem to agree, but something’s oddly astray. What am I?
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Mibbit, the Little Glitch That Stayed
I steal your cursor, Then blink as if I meant nothing— Who taught the screen to grin?
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Experience, Change and Pattern
I left to find the world, and found it waiting in my own shadow. Each road was a question that answered itself in dust, each horizon a promise that moved as I approached. I searched for distance and discovered nearness, the strange mercy of arriving where I had already begun.
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The Daily Loaf
I rise without feet, I’m sliced, then I’m neat. I can loaf on a plate, And make lunch feel great.
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The answer, my friend,…
“Blowin’ in the Wind” is a song by Bob Dylan that poses rhetorical questions about peace, war, and freedom, with the refrain suggesting that the answers are elusive and intangible.
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Bookends
At the end, the story settles into a quiet, tender homecoming: after danger and wandering, the characters return to a sense of peace and belonging, with friendship and the rhythm of nature feeling more important than adventure.
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Dream Horizon
I rise without a map or chart, I live within a waking heart; I’m built from hope, and far I roam, A vast invisible kind of home.
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Lunch Between Worlds
I come to you in a paper box, hot enough to fog a visor, paid for with speed and eaten in haste between one world and the next.
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China Horse, Quince, and Indecision
“Flummoxed by the choice, I chose both: a china horse and a quince.”
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Gipsi Art Blog 