The Girl With The Peony Tattoo

Ownership of cyber real estate has its privileges, among which is affording the owner the right to scrawl about that which he likes most. Granted, if one is attempting to build a steady flow of high-volume internet traffic, it’s best to write about provocative things, or things for which one might not care so much, or things that are tricky, or witty, or snarky and such. This inevitably brings the people back for more, so I am told, and I confess that there is a grand and high art to the practice.

My artistry in this manner lacks, however.

This being the case, I’m opting for something a bit different, at least for today. Today, I’m stretching into beauty–only beauty.

One thing I know: when you’re exploring beauty, it’s best to start with the most beautiful thing you know, the measuring stick, if you will. For me, that’s an easy call.

amber-tattoo-300x214Yes, that’s my wife. I’ve written about her a lot here. Some may get tired of it, but, again, I’m here to write about that which I like. Among all people, places, and things, I like her best. (Note, I say “like” which is intentional. Anyone can love his wife, but like? Now, that’s a gift.)

Today, visit me at Tweetspeak Poetry where I write about Amber’s peony tattoo, the way it is a metaphor for her, the way she is a walking poem.

And, as always, thanks for following along with me in this space.

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