Posted on February 23, 2016March 5, 2016 / Micropoetry Waves You, the master earth, I, the palest moon. What is distance worth, As your blue waves swoon. [....] Read More00 Tweet Share
Posted on February 23, 2016March 5, 2016 / Micropoetry Disperse Stir passion with your verse, Make winds of storm, clouds blown. These clouds which then disperse, To far skies yet unknown. [....] Read More00 Tweet Share
Posted on February 23, 2016March 5, 2016 / Micropoetry Syrah Tonight we make sweet wine. What a bounty for us; Syrah fresh from the vine. A red gift from Bacchus. [....] Read More+10 Tweet Share
Posted on February 23, 2016March 5, 2016 / Micropoetry Wings How a bird remembers the mapped travel, Such a marvelous thing! And we journey, lost, on the gravel, Oh, to fly under the wing. [....] Read More00 Tweet Share
Posted on February 19, 2016March 5, 2016 / Poetry Postage Paid Mirrors jumble the city, I am lost. Thirty cents, postage paid, I am lost. Streets mood all gritty, I am lost, Board the bus, I have strayed, I am lost. The tower shadow, she fades, I am lost. Signs and shapes, my tongue prayed,[....] Read More+10 Tweet Share
Posted on February 19, 2016March 5, 2016 / Poetry Kit How death blends into life, Leaves fallen and mint grows. A modern view of wildlife, A kitten left alone. In your position froze, A stone, a lifeless clone, Your mouth scarcely exposed, Fur matted to the bone.[....] Read More00 Tweet Share
Posted on February 17, 2016March 5, 2016 / Micropoetry Stones I hollowed out my bones, Vaguely thinking of the sea. Would I sink, just like stones? Alas, just let it be. [....] Read More00 Tweet Share
Posted on February 17, 2016March 5, 2016 / Micropoetry Pages A pen falls from my hands, Words bar, lines form a cage. My eyes weep and in lands, Upon these stained pages. [....] Read More00 Tweet Share
Posted on February 16, 2016March 5, 2016 / Poetry Clipped Birds I dreamed of unwritten words, Pairing well with fine Bordeaux, And clipped wings of fallen birds, Fingers wet with fallen woe. My chest sinks with leaden weights, Breathing is a luxury. So, a gin to soothe my fate,[....] Read More00 Tweet Share
Posted on February 16, 2016March 5, 2016 / Micropoetry The Lone Shoe A child’s dusty memory, Hidden beneath the floor boards, For nigh on a century. Oh, what tales those soles record. This was recovered beneath the floor boards of my parent’s house, as they are renovating.[....] Read More00 Tweet Share
