April showers don't exist.... at least not in Colorado.

Its raining, and has been off and on for the last two weeks, bringing with it all sorts of flowers, from the pansy's and morning glory's in my window box to the roses out in the garden.

speaking of those roses, several large blossoms of a fantastic buttery yellow, I find myself once again missing my old cat, whom played the part of older sister/confidant for most of my nearly ended childhood. I long for the older days, when life was life, that's all, and things were easy(er).
I find myself plagued by many a shadow, not of the past, but of the future soon to be, and I sink beneath the weight that is my many, many worries.
I find that my dream scape is not always a pleasant retreat, but sometimes just the perfect place for my private terrors to track me down, wedge me in a corner, and tickle me until I scream.
Be careful: the nightmares are roaming tonight, and they might find you.