A Child of the Shadows Dwells between Two Places;

In the ‘Age of Man’ and ‘Beyond the Veil’ This child is born, unto a time, where Angels cast their light upon the path that must be taken. During the winter solstice, snow drifts softly like cinders from the heavens; melting upon the songs of the Dark-eyed Junco and Nuthatch; that carry the secrets of… Continue reading A Child of the Shadows Dwells between Two Places;

~Lady of the Woods~

Lady of the Woods Shimmering ashes and silvered cloth, draped long, flowing behind her, like a slow fog whispering over the forest path to adorn the lady of the woods. As the sun lies down before her, a glory of mist, in the heavens; to form the very breath of Angels of the winter land.… Continue reading ~Lady of the Woods~

The Anthony Woodson House and Farm during the Civil War in Munfordville, Hart County, Kentucky

The Anthony Woodson House and Farm during the Civil War in Munfordville, Hart County, Kentucky Hart County was founded in the year of 1819 from sections of Barren and Hardin Counties. Hart County was named for Captain Nathaniel G. S. Hart, a Kentucky militia officer. During the War of 1812 Captain Hart was wounded at… Continue reading The Anthony Woodson House and Farm during the Civil War in Munfordville, Hart County, Kentucky

~ Bone Dust August ~

It happened in a bone-dust, dry August, in the year of our Lord, 2020; that a secret was to be given in trust. A secret upon receiving that would come with a burdensome price. I will never forget this particular August; it crept upon us like a veiled shadow on the perimeter of the sun’s… Continue reading ~ Bone Dust August ~

~ Children Running our Shadows Down, the Long Roads of Forever ~

I recall a time when we drove underneath a shiny moon, with fire in our souls. The men, Lucinda and me, Michaele Ruby were riding and sharing Christmas whiskey, in the backseat of Grandad’s beat up truck. The luminous elixir shook and shone, in moon lit glass, upon our cotton print dresses set in motion by the… Continue reading ~ Children Running our Shadows Down, the Long Roads of Forever ~

The Abandoned Story, A Written and Pictorial Journey of Abandoned Places, Rural Haunts and Small Towns

The Abandoned Story, A Written and Pictorial Journey ofAbandoned Places, Rural Haunts and Small Towns of Indiana “I have created since I can remember and I love to be an integral part in this magical existence we call creation.The power of the sun finding its path into an abandoned house; reaching its path into a… Continue reading The Abandoned Story, A Written and Pictorial Journey of Abandoned Places, Rural Haunts and Small Towns

~Children Running our Shadows Down, the Long Roads of Forever~

I recall a time that we drove underneath a winter moon, with fire in our souls;  Lucinda, the Men and me, Michaele Ruby, sharing Christmas whiskey in the backseat of Grandad’s beat up truck. The luminous elixir shook and shone, in moon lit glass, upon our cotton print dresses set in motion by the wind;… Continue reading ~Children Running our Shadows Down, the Long Roads of Forever~

~The Secret Place ~

  The Secret Place ~ In the long days and moments of her dream wandering, she will discover the Secret Place. She moves through the forest, as a child that knows its path. She sees eternal sun, hears the melody of rustling dead leaves and the bloom of life, dancing to cicada’s electric hum. Her eyes reflect what she has… Continue reading ~The Secret Place ~

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Summer Memory at Dripping Springs © by Tommie Flannery Baskis Late summer days linger in hazy dreams before the door of autumn. I find in Dripping Springs an old forgotten rose bush by the white clapboard home, abandoned many, many summers ago. The rotten bird house still clings to a post at the old, Pickett… Continue reading Untitled

Summer Memory at Dripping Springs, Featured on Rutger Hauer’s – Soap Box Poets

Summer Memory at Dripping Springs   © by Tommie Flannery Baskis Late summer days, linger; in hazy dreams before the door of autumn. I find in Dripping Springs, an old forgotten rose bush by the white clapboard home; abandoned many, many summers ago. The rotten bird house still clings to a post at the old,… Continue reading Summer Memory at Dripping Springs, Featured on Rutger Hauer’s – Soap Box Poets