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Category Archives: Poetry

Heart of Stone

Here lies the road into the deep, dark wood, Fern dusted banks, and tree roots, and red, red earth. Ahead lie shadows, and chiming sprite’s mirth Drawing me deep into the dark wild wood. Blithely I go along a path I should Never have dared dread. Long gone from cold hearth And smokeless chimney, clothes […]

Shall I compare thee…

Words fall like stones into the sea, Thrown into the gulf here between me and you, falling into a blue fathomless depth out of my view, truths that I hope will set me free. Can I begin to bridge the sea, Build a path from me to thee? Into my mosaic, all of blue, Words […]

Miss Kitty’s Villanelle

Cool grey light fades as another day breaks. With quiet mewl and a gentle paw-pat, The sun rises and my dreaming cat wakes. Long nights and days bring weariness that makes Rising a chore and brings no comfort that Cool grey light fades as another day breaks. My torpor ignored, she stretches awake, Jumps from […]

Three Graces

Three graces sit with their heads together, Whispering asides, casting coy glances and subtle smiles with laughter that dances soft as a mist wrapped around their shoulders. Unreachable beauty behind high walls This coarse mortal fool has no art to breach. A bleak lonely gulf keeps them out of reach: My heart, my hope, rises […]

Rondeau for a girl

She kissed me then lightly went her way never knowing it might be more than play never seeing that she changed the way my wary heart beat. A new path opened for tired old feet, old flags unfurled in fresh display. Blithely, lightly went those days. In foolish youthful happy haze my waking heart beat! […]

The Wizard

The Wizard speaks the tongue of birds, he knows the growth of trees. With his hands he can weave the storms, and lightning wreathes his brow. His words teach the elders, delight the children, charm the girls. But he cannot shield the young men’s dreams from the wind that carries white sails to the shore […]


Archimedes, It is said, Showed his wonder and excitement By dancing Running naked In the Syracusan streets. You and me Though, know that, Our findings of self are not Worth shouting, Or displaying, Or indeed worth believing in.