Poetry

This dimly-lit café, there’s a voice then two, then three speaking like a broken triangle…

I leapt behind the horses of my mind’s imagined sleigh As snow had fallen overnight…

Dead poets’ poems, seen within the admiring eyes of the living. The power of sadness…

I read somewhere about this French artist making porcelain weapons   They symbolise women, delicate,…

To the universe who places the perfect kindred spirits in my path. Thank you for…

It was the guy coming the other way this time that looked down toward the…

I sketched your face in the midst of a bleached sky; touching the cool wet…

I love the way you smile the way you squint your eyes when you laugh…

The flame hovered silently, above its sooty wick Throwing jagged shadows on the walls of…

In Memory of Victims of War Here : parents go to bed with no hope…