Sonnet 3
Wrap me in cotton wool: don’t let me touch You lying there in your matchbox disused - Where your sting’s curled in tight to your belly And your hands are balled in to your heart.
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- 518 reads
For You To Decide!!!
Almost two millennia hence an equally pragmatic though much less popular man appears to be the part of similar lineage! Indeed his predecessors are not saints but more likely- sinners
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- 764 reads
The Dark
Small heads and hands ‘bib’ and ‘bob’ apples, the Trick or Treat – do we ‘member Adam’s treachery
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- 938 reads
how?
How careless have I been? To lose so many, though not all at once. I would expect scars to remain at least shadows of their pain. Did i cry, mummy, when i first encountered loss?
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- 1280 reads
Sanctuary
A villanelle based on a trip I took to Ground Zero, in which its church was the only building to escape unscathed.
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- 960 reads
Autumn
Gold leaves,sharp winds Children play wildly Autumn throws up fire Sparklers, Halloween, Guy Fawkes We burn our ghosts And gather together Hand in hand Wearing fingerless gloves
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- 626 reads
Gland IV. Edinburgh
You may not have heard of Edinburgh but it has probably heard of you.
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- 1266 reads
Carmen Trees
Carmen Trees Carmen trees have flamenco flounces of hot latin colour on still autumnal mornings they await the overture poised ranks of Corp de Ballet trembling a little
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- 1226 reads