i. raven hair a sacred crown cascading like water in thick torrents down the nape of her neck. from under her shroud she pours over the page reworking each line in ink until it ... CONTINUED
more recent poems
with a shrug
at the end of our road a rusted metal fence holds a faded "dead end" sign hanging ... CONTINUED
moon beam
a wooden bowl forgotten on the patio and filled with rainwater reflects a ... CONTINUED
Nothing New…
i. Without warning the sky can fall in neat needle-stitched rows, precisely ... CONTINUED
my manifesto
I prefer poems that are short and sharp, which flame and spark. Poems that dare to paint VIVID pictures or scenes for your mind’s eye. Unforgettable poems that have something to say, some reason for being. Poems which beat with a passionate, pure heart. Poems that reach for something beyond the mere sounds of words on a printed page (or computer screen). Welcome to my dream…