Dreams of being an author/poet have been creeping around my head since I was truly tiny.  Every so often, they would venture forth to make themselves known, only to be chased by fear to the furthest and darkest recesses of my mind.  Writing for the world to see felt akin to standing in front of it naked and I was no exhibitionist.  

But, as I have gotten older, I have managed to bind some of my fear.  Some I say because it now sulks through those same furtive corners and whispers of failure and despair.  I merely am choosing not to listen and am, therefore, standing before you, arms spread wide and shouting "Here I am, come and see!" You can count yourselves extremely fortunately that I am doing so fully clothed! ;)