In the Firelight (poem)
. . . the rosy flesh the flickering of words of warm shinings
of glances toward the flame . . . Continue reading In the Firelight (poem)
. . . the rosy flesh the flickering of words of warm shinings
of glances toward the flame . . . Continue reading In the Firelight (poem)
black leather on fleshless legs your mouth like winter water . . . Continue reading Marianne (poem)
I feel like an aged, forsaken spinster,
Foolishly guarding the relics of lovers past . . . Continue reading The Maharajah’s Daughter (poem)
Yes, books are our friends, but some can be very special friends . . . Continue reading The Mindful Bard Salutes World Book Day