A poet’s epitaph

No joy is here to stroke away the hours That love has bent with her mortal powers So veil not the scaring in your solace-eyes For this marks well the habitual pages,

If beauty could let her love to me

If beauty could let' her love to me' Like the white buds on a magnolia tree What a nature in my soul there would be What a freedom in my breast for thee Could I in truth set wing flung free...

A Joy if heaven is perpetually bright!

My soul; be not undeterred, to find... Myrrh, frankincense or precious, gold: A swaddling fever to rein out the cold, Truth; dare not I, not; agonize mankind.

From Perky Turkey to Stricken Chicken

I've cut my losses but I've not cut loose I burnt my bridges when I cooked my goose It seems there's nothing that I can produce To burden Pardon with my

My Cousins ( By Callum)

This is a very nice poem by my cousin Callum that is about all his cousins. I hope you like it.

My Dream Land

Ferry Meadows
Cherry

Night Crawling

The car is a volcano of smoke. Matt hands me the spliff and turns onto the high street. Streetlights pass above us like fireflies. The tip is moist but I inhale deeply.

Dumping Carrots

You take your average severed finger, place it inside a convenience salad box, wrapped up in a bed of shredded lettuce leaves for company. You send it on its way.
Cherry

THE PIE SHOP. Chapter Ten Tommy's Creed

Messing about on the river?

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