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The End of the War The nuclear bombs had all been dismantled and their parts repurposed. At least that's what supposedly happened. Not that it really mattered. The war of attrition by air raid continued in both our countries. The population was shrinking, so colleges were shut down and students were funneled more directly into jobs. I didn't even get to finish my degree. I was given a job caring for children three days a week and using my artistic skills to boost morale the other three days of the work week. I used my one free day to walk the surface and visit the places my two friends and I used to haunt. One of my friends was killed in an air raid; the otherThe End of the War by ~FawnHeart
Strawberry Window This different from before.Strawberry Window by ~FawnHeart
You aren't a knight in shining armor
or a placebo.
You aren't a security blanket
or a passing fascination.
You are a
strawberry colored window.
I don't need you, but
you let in the light and
push me to face another day.
You let me pause and realize,
the here and now isn't so bad,
that I don't have to wait for the future
to go out and live my life.
You make this place home.
You don't hide the world
like rose colored glasses,
you just refocus and remind
of times so long ago
and give me hope for the now.
TIF File I was behind schedule, but not late. Not if I could make record time from my parents' house to the park. Dad's video camera had broken again and he needed to record his next broadcast. So I had to stay and fix it. His broadcasts may have been the bread and butter of our movement, group, whatever you wanted to call it, but I was the one who organized everything. I still wasn't sure which of us really believed in our message more, sometimes it seemed like his participation had more to do with personal vengeance. I checked my watch and took a sharp turn to start climbing fences; I couldn't take the time to go around. I was breathing hard by theTIF File by ~FawnHeart
Snippets A simple handshake,Snippets by ~FawnHeart
the typical trading of names
after an,
"I don't think I met you".
Then goodbye.
I don't remember such things,
but I remember this.
Why?
A tiny voice,
"have we really
never met before?"
An entire year,
I remember you,
but not the name so, I
cheat and ask your mother.
Which is which?
Who is who?
You remember me
and greet me as a friend,
you use my name.
The warmth of your gaze
is striking.
Another goodbye, I
was expecting just another
handshake.
Wrapped up in arms,
warmer than your gaze
for just an instant,
I was safe enough to dream.
You ask after next year,
Will I be back?
You take
Triumph 
Sta.sh
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Icon by ~1-OC-Central-1
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People in your houses, birds in your cages.
Do you know your life?
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Take a Peek at Grannysattic You Never Know What You Will Find [link]
Please remember to send a copy of the art for our personal album to shropshiredawn@hotmail.com
Still slaving over a red hot sewing machine
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My mind is a womb, ever pregnant with good ideas
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You can't spell 'awesome' without ME
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Point Commissions, Collabs and Trades are open
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May the yellow always stick to your chin, and remember fallen leaves smell like cinnamon.
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Surrealism had a great effect on me because then I realised that the imagery in my mind wasn't insanity. Surrealism to me is reality.
John Lennon
For your awesome Nura needs-check my blog out-Need Moar Nura ([link])
thanks for fav.
kit.
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my face
kitskids.com
kitskids market
mythicnorms market
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May the yellow always stick to your chin, and remember fallen leaves smell like cinnamon.