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In Memoriam

A profound and moving work of poetry, 'In Memoriam' delves into the depths of grief and the enduring impact of loss on the human spirit. more

Author

Alice Winn

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“Arise! Arise! Arise and shine! May Christ message of eternal life fill your heart with everlasting love, hope, happiness and new dreams.”

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Book:Think Great: Be Great!
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“Wood violets? I hadn't seen them since I was a girl, when they appeared one summer in my grandmother's garden. I'd never noticed them on Elliot's property. What were they doing here? Many on the island, me included, believed that these flowers had mystical powers, that they could heal wounds of the heart and the body, mend rifts in friendships, even bring about good fortune.”

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Book:The Violets of March
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“Here." Kerresha entered again with a brown, glass bottle with a ring of colorful beads on top. Looked like something straight out of witch doctor's medicine bag. "Hold this to your nose." Marvina waved the bottle away. "I don't mess with new age, psychedelic stuff. I stick with God." "It's lavender. I'm pretty sure God made it." Kerresha twisted the top off the bottle and held it under Marvina's nose. The scent, deep, calming, and pure, filled her the same way she imagined her body would feel if somebody poured the color purple all through her soul. A minute later, the anxiety level had gone from a 7 down to a 2.”

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Book:Sisters with a Side of Greens
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“She looked at the produce stalls, a row of jewels in a case, the colors more subtle in the winter, a Pantone display consisting only of greens, without the raspberries and plums of summer, the pumpkins of autumn. But if anything, the lack of variation allowed her mind to slow and settle, to see the small differences between the almost-greens and creamy whites of a cabbage and a cauliflower, to wake up the senses that had grown lazy and satisfied with the abundance of the previous eight months. Winter was a chromatic palate-cleanser, and she had always greeted it with the pleasure of a tart lemon sorbet, served in a chilled silver bowl between courses.”

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Book:The Lost Art of Mixing
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