“We dream of roses and grow like weeds.”

Somehow you’d had your mermaids never smell like fish.

Spring into summer from pale green to emerald unfurling with grace.

You are all burning desires and questions with no answers.

Love was learning to read your vulnerability like a foreign language.

We don’t always have to see eye to eye when we are meeting soul to soul.

It is an act of courage every time you create. Stay brave.

We would look with scorn at witch mothers who build towers but not at princes who lust after caged women.

Somehow even in the dark, you can always turn to catch my kisses.

Love is not a net to catch others with.

The loss of innocence is inevitable bitterness does not have to be.

I no longer know how to find myself under the weight of who I had to be.

In hard times stay soft.

What does a caged bird know about freedom?

Those who are capable of great love will always pay in great grief.

The snow will keep all of your secrets or none of them.

The contradiction of my lips so cold outside so warm within.

The better ambitions have to do with the development of character and ability, rather than status and power. The status you can lose. You carry character with you wherever you go, and it allows you to prevail against adversity.

If you are a dreamer come sit by my fire, for we have some flax-golden tails to spin, come in, come in.

May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful.

A book is a dream that you hold in your hands.

Will I ever rise above the shackles of my mundane reality? I know I could fly as high as dreams.

That which is dreamed can never be lost, can never be undreamed.

Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes and forgot.

But we can aim too high. Or too low. Or too chaotically. So we fail and live in disappointment, even when we appear to others to be living well.