Writing can be hard for me, but I feel compelled to continue. To find thoughts that draw pictures and sentences that explain thoughts. To offer intrigue, comfort, and hope. To trigger memories. Maybe sometimes sadness and traumas. Because all of these make up and include life. Astounding and compelling life. The same life that we give thanks for. -Mandy Ricks
Evening rolls in, softly, gently, a soothing reprieve.
And as the leaves turn and drop with graceful harmony so does my need to please.
-Mandy Ricks
I began to write poems when I was a child. Late at night, in bed, alone with my pen.
My mother and her partner would drunkenly fight and I would write about horses and sunshine.
-Mandy Ricks
Is it the rain that makes me sad or is it the ache of emptiness that once was you?
Perhaps I just need to wait for the sun to return and warm my thoughts.
-Mandy Ricks
