Spiritual

To the Road My Tread

To the road my tread to the wind my face and never to return to this city I leave. And yet, on this path I feel desire twist but never will I turn and never will I miss this bleak city

Martha

The house in Jericho, where all the white roses embraced around the window panes, while from the inside wafts of baking stirred and laughter rose and fell into the night.

Spirit

You search a world that is nowhere but deep within, constantly flowing.. With time disappears the exterior. Where once had been places and houses, now have risen clear visions of thought
Cherry

Just Supposing...

You’ve passed on – gone to heaven; you could be anything you wanted.

A question amongst equals

Compare the woodpigeon to a street pigeon There couldn’t be amongst equal’s two more apart Ones dignified, as if by religion Chosen; and then given a full head start.
Cherry

Something real not perfect

What are you looking for?

POND LIFE

A poem about the life of a pond.