The Hairafter

Oh where do hairs go when they’re shed, when they grow thin upon my head? To some Hair heaven high above where angels tousle them with love? Is there a paradise where they,
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Primitives were our ancestors

Primitive were our ancestors P K Routray Bed luxurious, room lustrous, climate artificial, heat and humidity optional as per our comfort and pleasure with least adjustment to natural weather
Cherry

THE FERRIS WHEEL

They are already amongst us...

What am i going to do

What am I going to do with out you near me what am I going to do here on my own how am I going to move in my day with out you to bring me sun on a rainy day

Midsummer Stillness

The magic came At evening tide As fissures of fire Cracked honied skies And sun-warmed rocks Were all aglow As floating words Rode windless air I stepped into the garden And felt a charge

Poem

Ten, a fearful year memories everywhere. Drunken childhood and bottle bank. Towering trees fallen down on broken ground with buttercups underneath. Ten, a fearful year

Poem

Ten, a fearful year memories everywhere. Drunken childhood and bottle bank. Towering trees fallen down on broken ground with buttercups underneath. Ten, a fearful year

Poem

It's funny where humour takes you. Memories or voices in head. Pen; frail...almost dead. Piano keys...where have they gone. It's funny where memories take you to the girl you used to be.

LIFERS Chapter Forty Five

‘As far as Thomas Martins knew, your mother perished in that fire, so I kept the whole thing from him. The letter, the blood, and where it came from.’

Pause For Thought!

A poem for International Fairy Day. 24th June 2013.
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