I do not conceal what I seek.

How did they find us? How were they so prepared? What could have tipped them off? Suspicions grow… there is only one thing this could possibly mean… there is a spy among us…

Time can go so fast, too fast.

The bubbles of joy make life beautiful blown by a child in ecstasy to fill life with moments of bliss.

A two part Haiku about a goldfish.

Poem about the lost world of Atlantis.

I’d be fine living in my own bubble, if it wasn’t for you.

Amusing poem about a boy who blows a bigger and bigger bubble.

A poem about awakening after a night of very lucid dreaming.

I was given a quoted prompt on the shortness of anything living…