Come on, all you writers and wannabes – how is it possible no one has commented in the last week on this stunning and beautiful photo of Elysia, the blissful angel? Here is what I see reflected in the mesmerizing soft light around her. She speaks to me of an old year passing filled with life’s up and downs, sprinkled with bits of fun, some hopes dashed, a few promises broken, occasional wishes unfulfilled. Each light in her halo, a flash of brilliance, a creative spark of remembrance, and then the year is gone. Look carefully – it’s all in her eyes. A new year is waiting just behind her halo, maybe over her right shoulder calling to the writer in each of you. Hope rises with the morning star, promises can be made again, wishes can be dreamed anew, thoughts will come in the night, words will be written. Perhaps, a book will be born. I never believed before but now an angel has spoken to me – she is the muse of Bill & Dave’s.
Come on, all you writers and wannabes – how is it possible no one has commented in the last week on this stunning and beautiful photo of Elysia, the blissful angel? Here is what I see reflected in the mesmerizing soft light around her. She speaks to me of an old year passing filled with life’s up and downs, sprinkled with bits of fun, some hopes dashed, a few promises broken, occasional wishes unfulfilled. Each light in her halo, a flash of brilliance, a creative spark of remembrance, and then the year is gone. Look carefully – it’s all in her eyes. A new year is waiting just behind her halo, maybe over her right shoulder calling to the writer in each of you. Hope rises with the morning star, promises can be made again, wishes can be dreamed anew, thoughts will come in the night, words will be written. Perhaps, a book will be born. I never believed before but now an angel has spoken to me – she is the muse of Bill & Dave’s.