Garden Spell

if im not stood at the helm of a 19th century pirate ship with the furious wind whipping at my billowing white shirt and the waves beating at the starboard side and my dark hair unraveling from its braid and my crew singing a shanty like a religious chant trying to make god hear them over the sound of the creaking of the mast and the screaming of the sea then whats the point

im making coffee. and guess what? YOU get one

security called me at work today and told me they saw me outside chasing a frog around on the security cameras. i wasnt in trouble they just wanted to let me know they saw me. i didn’t catch him.

i like this very much

I love dreams… I love fruits and vegetables

Oh to be a medieval apothecary and have dried herbs in little jars all through my dimly-lit shop