ArdenRandall

Its Life -Arden Randall- Cherish the moments. The rainbow sparkle of the sun off morning dew. The faint pleasure of the sweet smell of a rose or the longing scent of jasmine as the wind caresses your cheek. Think of the pleasures. The feel of her warm, soft skin. The smile as she looks at you. The small things she does, the love in her eyes. Look back at what has been and what could be  what will be. Too many times we do not stop in the now and appreciate the present. Why will my hands not type? Why will my voice not speak? The body fails, it may cease to obey but I am here. I think. I know. The way people look, the s

Alexander Slept Here -Arden Randall- Star struck comet streaks across the sky, To die and burn out long before its time. The brief glimpse of greatness lighting the hearts and minds of those that remain behind. Live long, great sprit. You are not forgotten. You can never be lost now. You are of the ages and passed into loving memory, Inspiring those that follow. To dream To be. To go beyond what others have before, To follow the steps of the great Alexander. To dream To exist, and pass on to all, that burning spirit to march and sail beyond the known edges. Of life. Of living the dreams and hopes we have before our

To the right was dried wood and to the           left were clay jars, one with the top open. She peered inside at the           dark thick mass inside. "Pitch."           "Ok, so I start a fire."           When it was burning bright and her coat was almost dry, she turned to           her backpack. "What else did you pack, trickster?" She opened and           unrolled it. Three large seeds from The Great Tree were there. She sat           them aside wondering on that one.           Gramma's comb. She smiled. remembering all the times she had combed           Gramma's hair. Sometimes they would chat or she would teach.

                                           Mina                                By:   Arden Randall             "Mina."            "Wake up little sleepy whiskers!"            A small nose peeked out from under the sleepcovers a lump moved under            them.            "Do you remember what day this is?"            A furry face, bleary with sleep peered out from under the covers, puffy            eyes closed more than open.            "It's Festday, little one. Get up or you will sleep through it," the            voice seemed to smile as it chided her.            Sitting up suddenly, eyes blinking, Mina threw back the cover,

A Small Note To Self =Arden Randall= Tal! I Have had a moment of weakness. The only one to see it was me, but I know it was there. My own words eat at me already... what I said yesterday,  walking away is the easy course. Not only was I false for a moment to myself, but I was false to others in that moment  of doubt. I thought I had a place I belonged. "I do not know them and they do not know me yet, so I am not  honor pledged yet  to stay," I told myself. "If a man cant fit in and be comfortable, it is time to move on," I said. "They might feel I am abandoning them... but the last week or so I have seen nothing to pledge to except kids

Commitment =Arden Randall= Bonds made. Bonds broken. To be reforged in the heat of trials and tribulations. Face to face in friendship. Back to back in the face trouble. Blood mingled, blood on the ground, Friend Family Forever. Commitment to each other for the good of all. Words of the heart bind stronger than steel that cannot be broken untill the cities of dust calls us home.

Transistions -Arden Randall- Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Heart to heart. We all go through loss. Of loved ones, Of love. Of self worth, Of opportunities lost. Wandering down the dark halls of memories, Flaring a brief light here and there Clearing cobwebs off of thoughts. A smile, or suddenly crying, sometimes both. Moving on, thinking of past and future things. Choices made, both bad and good. Looking through the debris of a life passed on: A soldiers uniform, Marching boots still polished, Ribbons and honors held, The Purple Heart, An infantry button. Tales told of of the bridge at Remagen, marching for days in f

Twitch approaches the unshaven, stinking, one eyed guard standing at the entrance to The Roads End. The guard eyes him as he does and shifts into a more defensive posture to allow a quick strike if need be. "Good evening, my good man. I take it you are the official greeter of this fine establishment of connoisseur repasts of such onerous clientele." The Guard blinks a moment, as if trying to understand the speech of a Kiff. "Ah, allow me to introduce myself, I am Twitch, procurer of iniquities and provocation." Whipping out a card and handing it to the guard he continues in his rapid fire monologue, gesticulating as he does, "My Card. As I s

The blood on the snow passes away, but the blood red moon remains. Choices -Arden Randall- What is better? to pursue our dreams, never to see them come true? Or never to have even tried.. To give our all, only to find it is not enough? Or to lay waste to all our hopes, all we have loved, to see it all die before our eyes? Or to have never found the truth in things? The blood on the snow passes away. but the blood red moon remains. To have given and known? or to have never reached at all for that we wanted? What lies at the end of the road we walk, forged from the choices we made in the past? Our time is short