Spiritual

Angels Song

A Christmas poem

Yet these waves crashing their drear tempest 'pon the land

Yet these waves crashing their drear tempest 'pon the land Are overcoming darkly, dashed anxieties Battering the bleakness to sediment and sand Scattering the beacons of drowned priorities
Cherry

Blood on my hands

New Writing Season Competition - Prose

In Nativitate Domini

In a silence so deep it were As though a thousand, thousand angels

triangular

Life, death, the here ever after This worlds jib, jibs, triangular! The father, son and Holy Ghost Desire, love and lust! They’re the obsequious... Yearnings, burning in us most;

To seed the steps of heaven

Morning-glory must open! To seed the steps of heaven And on her nap of cloud; Might yours be a halo a crown? Opening the gates of heaven... And that basket of laundry