Autumn binds poetry in its own withered leaves. – Terri Guillemets
Junk mail, junk food, our society is full of junk living, period. – Terri Guillemets
Autumn binds poetry in its own withered leaves. – Terri Guillemets
Junk mail, junk food, our society is full of junk living, period. – Terri Guillemets
When you’re really happy, the birds chirp and the sun shines even on cold dark winter nights — and flowers will bloom on a barren land. – Terri Guillemets