John Geddes

“......and not out of fear or loneliness, but only to find myself again... for we have come too far my Life, to turn back now...”

“...does it seem strange in the loneliness of the present time, that I run to you?...”

“... only darkened trails of rain could paint your face upon a pane...”

“...a passing face together with his grief turned you into a weeping Madonna...”

“...you are a river rock and belong in a stream - not here in this upper room sinking in my bed...”

“...dark furrow lines grid the snow, punctuated by orange abacus beads of pumpkins - now the crows own the field...”

“...the winter is kind and leaves red berries on the boughs for hungry sparrows...”

“...perhaps in actions I'm less of a man - but, oh the words - such lovely words...”

“...come lie beside me again and understand - the others can show by actions, but I alone will immortalize you in words...”

“...you are enchanted - only a princess can leave glass footprints in the snow...”

“..snow gently settles like dust in a shaft - for one moment there is no one else - only the wind like the hiss of an ice skate ...”

“...I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair...”

“...my heart rides the wind and my thoughts sail away - to a land below the horizon where I know you hide from me...”

“...the wind hums low with sweet exultation, sings its lullaby, while you sleep ...”

“...we went to watch the waves that bitter day and the wind took your red cap and mittens - blew them into the sea...”

“...strands of your hair and tendrils of the wind spin into nothingness the memories of that day...”

“...the wind has a purpose - to rattle the window panes, disturb the cat and make me miss you ...”

“...not even the wind can bring a tear to my eye the way you do...”

“...I live with regrets - the bittersweet loss of innocence - the red track of the moon upon the lake - the inability to return and do it again...”

“Deb and I were married on a snowy night - wind cross-wove a veil of snow for her then threw confetti at us as we left the lighted church...”

“...I'm a modern mountebank - I believe in Physiognomy - after all, we are in control of our face - it's the map of where we've been...”

“...don't tell me I should only talk to people with a high influence score, or I'll Klout you...”

“...I've always idealized women I've loved - they all fell short, save one - the one God chose for me - she lights up a room by walking into it...”

“...it must be hard when you are a beautiful woman and no one will look at your soul...”

“...when we perfect 3-D copiers and they reproduce tissue, we'll have a million Marilyns walking around with no souls...”

“...when someone is honest and vulnerable, they wring my heart - I want to hug them for being real...”

“...open the access to your heart and write down what your voice is whispering...”

“...God and your heart both whisper - incline your ear - don't just learn from your head...”

“... God is not a Sunday plumber - he's always available...”

“...you don't need a calling to minister love...”

“He heard her in his heart - whispering from the mist”

“...I see myself at crossroads in my life, mapless, lacking bits of knowledge - then, the Moon breaks through, lights up the path before me...”

“...poetry is paying attention to life when all the world seems asleep to its beauties and truths...”

“...Sunday evenings are heavier than clouds with rain, darker too and often interminable...”

“...some nights I'd sneak out and listen to the radio in my Dad's old Chevy - children need solitude - they don't teach that in school...”

“...when I was a kid, Toronto streets were deserted and quiet on Sundays, except for the sound of church bells I stood on the sidewalk one December listening to the Christmas bells - I've never forgotten that moment...”

“...I will find once again the light of your beauty - your colored windows in the night...”

“...if you've got writer's block, you aren't empty - maybe it's just like Twitter - overwhelmed, and loading seems to be taking a while...”

“...the strands that connect us are frail, so don't hang great weights on slender wires...”

“...that yearning inside you that seeks for fulfillment - does it still burn?...”

“...the heart's not an organ but a whisper in your head ...”

“...the most beautiful things don't always make you happy - often they make you weep...”

“...if it weren't for you, mornings wouldn't be so comforting - slippers wouldn't scrape through the rooms of my heart...”

“...the making of stories is only one part of my craft -mainly, I'm a heart whisperer...”

“... the house is on fire, but go ahead - finish painting the verandah...”

“...my heart is a desolate field over which geese vee, the sky turns and the days lie fallow...”

“...you want things to remain the same, which they never can, and so you’re wounded by your own feelings & resentful others don’t seem to care...”

“...If I ever got sloppy and maudlin, it would be for the streets of my childhood—but no self- respecting writer should ever eulogize a slum...”

“...How terrible, those dreams before sleep were—the worse kind, mixing hope with despair...”

“...my dreams are tangled in images of stars and clouds and firelight - we go camping at night - it's my lucid dream of being with you...”