I DON'T LIKE TO SLEEP ALONE poem

the lather of our moments, that sweet smell of assent.

DOWNTOWN HALIFAX PUB poem

money just paper moving from one pocket to another university lads glad to share another round
Cherry

BEFORE PRESIDENT OBAMA poem

I gather in your colour, the shape of your skin

Spider Webs

Looking out onto the night, small strands glint between the light. Soft and fragile to the touch, using my hand as a crutch. Fast and agile it weaves through,
Cherry

Give me your poor huddled masses

“Give me your poor huddled masses yearning to be free.”

"sonnet40"

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Eyes of Amber 13

Chapter 13

Nine Eleven Where Are You

Ours is not to reason why , all we need to do is try .

Beachcombing

no explanations... no apologies...

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