We are the scent of sunshine,drifting, soaring like butterflieso’er fields not yet mownto land upon an apple limboutstretched and hangingverdant with the nectar pommeneath cotton wool and cyan
Poetry
I have been writing poetry since the 2nd grade. Why stop now?
Poetry
Colours of Joy
The song is blueocean wavescrashingagainst a topaz shore‘neath starsexplodingviolet – magenta – greenand rosebudsfluttertiny crimson heartstwistingin the breezebeneath his fingers and then… it ends. inky curtainsshut against the
Poetry
A Day of Lumps
White wispsstruggle ‘neath navy capsas we honourthose who wear themin the wind and colda sea of poppiesat the eleventh hourstrewn on the tombof a young manwho never bouncedgrandchildrenon
Poetry
Wooden Ships
Wooden shipsbatteredbrokenon the beachin a blood red tideebbing the souls of childrento seato join the ageless sirensdriftingin the gardens of kelpmere yardsbeneath the marble stepsof a 5 star
