You are the apple of Love’s eye.
David Paul KirkpatrickOh come, ‘though you have broken your promises a hundred times…Come home, stranger and alien, come home to me….Come home, space traveler, lover of leaving for I am here...
David Paul KirkpatrickTag: love holy-spirit
Small as a pea. Wider than the sea. This is where you and I came to be.
David Paul KirkpatrickWhat are those glorious dots? Those, dear one, are forget-me-nots!
David Paul KirkpatrickThey would be a duet. They would be happy. What is happy, anyways?
David Paul KirkpatrickBe patient, child!” said the Music. “But she will forget me.” “Do not worry, child. I am there. I shall not forget.”And she stared out at the planets and gentle stars and the galaxies and became forlorn for she had known a special love.“The Universe is so large, just look at it!” she cried. “Believe.” The Music sang.
David Paul KirkpatrickThen an odd thing happened. Britney put her finger on the ridge of the painted glass and rubbed it. It made a perfect noise. The kind of noise that goes on and on as a beautiful noise does once it has wrung the ear. It was the chord of the wild sea.
David Paul KirkpatrickSomehow, the days of summer with their glimmering enchantment of dancing ladybugs and sailing clouds had faded into grey. Maddie’s heart had somehow faded with it.
David Paul KirkpatrickTag: love childhood summertime
The breeze carried the music into the distant country plains, past the bullet trains, across the majestic cornfields and the Christmas tree farms. The music swept past the Georgia orange trees, the droning honeybees, and the shining seas of the Atlantic. It wafted past the London Pier. Young Britney wanted all of Nod to hear.
David Paul KirkpatrickTag: music lovers soulmates lesbian
Where they had once ambled alone, they now walked together home.
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