by Nancy Machlis Rechtman He told me that my eyesWere stars twinkling in the nightAnd when he kissed me he murmuredThat my lips were the sweet petals of roses. My heart became the flutterOf birds’ wings soaring through the treesAnd his wordsWere the silky balm on my wounded soul. “Your…
by Mary E. Kendig Mothers aren’t perfect — not by far. Some can be stern and uncaring — even “unpresent,” while some are so loving they smother you until you can’t breathe, Or praise you until you start to believe you’re completely and utterly perfect in every way, like she…