In The Shadows of Angels

Reflections of the MS Weekend Escape – Brian Mason Respite Camp at Smith Mountain Lake In the shadows of angels there is a spirit and that spirit longs to dance.  That spirit stirs restlessly within us all.  A spirit born in our childhood that ran and played free of care, unaware that the world might …

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From Within, With Wynn

Illustrations by MWR Frackelton (Mary-Wynn Rogers Frackelton’s first painting, 11 months old) For Mary-Wynn, My Goddaughter, Impressions of Her Art From within This cage They call it pack-n-play And it seems to be Everywhere we go The towering walls Of green Have gotten smaller And as I peer Over The world is within My view …

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In Fields We Play

In Fields We Play by Joe Cundiff In the stillness of night And on the early morning Mountain ridges And dark river banks I shall miss you still You became and would Become So much of my soul My being Together we shared More than one life Could bear Together we trod Amidst darkness And …

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The Wind My Soul

The Wind My Soul By Joe Cundiff   The wind is howling howling The wind is growling Ripping through my skin The wind is Howling Trees bending bending Bending More But will not break But will I Branches sway in the howling Growling wind Angry waves dancing Angrily randomly And somehow Majestic Yet I stand …

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The Trophy

In all the hours of practice, I had not attempted a shot that remotely resembled the one I was getting ready to take. My knees dug into the earth and innately my upper body leaned forward to compensate for the steep angle of the sloping hillside. Oblivious to the obstacles, instinct prevailed. Peering through the peephole sight, I found the bull. He walked past the tree and stopped. The trophy stood thirty-two yards away, broadside and unobstructed.

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