You have entered the realm of a writer.

Welcome to A Writer's Landscape!

You have entered the realm of my mind where words play with the fabric of our existence. This is the map of my imagination: the very foundations of inspiration, musing, and thought splayed for your wandering eyes. Dive deep into the tides of these forces and experience my reality, my fantasy, my world; and if you should be so inclined, share your words with this land.

Peace and Love!

J Hart F

Tuesday, January 11, 2011


I watched the sunrise on the mountains.
The frost-blue snow of the night awoke:
First the peaks bloomed in roses, soft
petals drifting with the rotation down
jagged Irons stil veiled in white
until just before the Life Bringer crests.

The pink skinned barrier of the West,
bearded in laden pine, premiered
Dawn's echoing shout as its resonance shadowed
twilight's armamants. A beacon crests
the highest peak, safely hearkening timid
sights beginning new impossible heaps.

Moments pass unhindered by the cold.
The night hides behind rock and wood,
stealing treasured vestiges of its obstreperous quiet
from snow and air; the Sun prevails in reflection:
red begets gold, gold reveals white, white is circular.
I watched the sunrise on the mountain.

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