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Waiting for dust to Gather

I only iron for myself now my blouses don't crease and my skirts never crumple but still i press them with a hot iron to the sound of background...

Her Skirt

her skirt in the summer
Cherry

P - Lesotho, in Semonkong

Poem. Part of a series.
Cherry

Editor's question

How not to keep in with the modern poetry movement.
Cherry

Heavens Heart.

Looking Back.

...never the same...

Short story about a first time drug experience.
Cherry

Not Being a Grown Up

Diary entry

Hope

Hope and how it killed me

Summerhouse

Flowers are mostly pink In my garden, Moondust and summerhouses, Garden parties On milky evenings, As the sun melts in the west, And the cocktails...

The fairy queen's child

There is a reason I don't write rhyming poems. This is it.

German

The moon rises, pale faced, Upon my broken German. My throat is frozen at this time, A marble pillar of salt. If you count my indiscretions, Which...

Summer

I had thought your voice would echo over the distance laid out between us. Seeing you now, a whisper of another time, I wonder at how forgiveness...

Vegetarian's Lament

Bacon sarnies smell too nice.

Soul Trip

A fun look at life and what it might be all about. NEW ENDING

Soul Trip

A fun look at life and what it might be all about. NEW ENDING

Soul Trip

A fun look at life and what it might be all about. NEW ENDING

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