I heard his voice last night
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78.
And I am guilty of pride
In the depth of that pleasure
and of that pain.
77.
I want desire to drip from my pen
So that you can taste it in your core.
London III
Everyone here is there own imperfection…
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Poet of the Month: Wilfred Owen
11.11.2018 marks 100 years since the armistice of the First World War.
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76.
This is more to me than it is to you.
I have to let you in; into my body.
75.
This is different; only I can take this leap;
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74.
To love this shadow of a silhouette
A person I have never met.
The First Six Months: My Top Blog Posts
It’s been six months since I started blogging…
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Sevilla I
The mournful note of the deepest strings Marks the night with its slowest song. Footsteps falter as they pass by, Drawn to the darkness of the music and To hold each other in the midnight hour. His cap is cast at his feet asking for that Shower of gold and silver from those around, Ears…
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