The Prodigal Son

The Prodigal Son By John G. Evans 4/28/2020 3:22:03 AM I was born in 1954. I weighed 4 pounds, 2 ounces. I was not expected to live. Like the hospital visit by the Lady of a golden azure whom I kissed her hand, Was this a pious illusion? My arms were tied to the gurney.…

A Beautiful Mystery

Soulfully engaged with this mystery, I seek Yet, the Proverbs hold the keys to a good life With a woman, I say, beauty, be it vain, that runs off the roof As of a late-night desert rain, charm as deceptive as a mirage of food On a plate lost high upon the rolling vast plains,…