The House Behind the Weeds

THE HOUSE BEHIND THE WEEDS Just two little boys walking down a dusty lane They came upon this old white house With broken window panes. The paint was faded, the shine was gone The grass had grown so high Still they made their little feet To see what was...

The House Behind the Weeds

THE HOUSE BEHIND THE WEEDS Just two little boys walking down a dusty lane They came upon this old white house With broken window panes. The paint was faded, the shine was gone The grass had grown so high Still they made their little feet To see what was...

A Thousand Marbles

A THOUSAND MARBLES The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it’s the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it’s the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning...