BACK YARD MONEY TREE
It was a small seed, one that was watered, anguished over and finally took form. Watching it grow was torture, and the sadness as it suffered from the storms of criticism shattered my very soul. The treachery of evil to destroy it caused many sleepless nights. The angels that had faith lit up the essence and refused to let failure become the option. The seed grew with the nourishment, days and nights turned into months and eventually years. Don’t douse with fire such imaginings were heard and then it happened. Life breathed into the layers and transformed the spirit of endeavours into the dream it is today. It was called novel and yes, wish it were a money tree but even just to be, is satisfying beyond belief.