Necessity is the mother of artistic invention. Without pencil paper paint and plight, what is necessary to create, a crying child with hallowed frown upon a mothers holy gown, she lacks a canvas to present, a wall of worthy whitewashed space, meant for gazers wondering where it went. Not created…
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There are rocks in my river, dry and pitted, waiting for rain like old grandmothers waiting for the changing of seasons. Wiping their hands on faded aprons after peeling apples, bagging them…
I took myself back to the dream of life, stretched far, its…
There brings, on wave, an immortal sound, to walk on shells, some…
THE ANSWER IS, DON’T HESITATE, at door or path and garden gate, for out there lies, what’s drawing you, to warm your hands and tootsies through. MAKE NO MISTAKE – You are clear in this to…
I have been free, like an up inspired leaf, floating on a breeze, flittering down, and lifted again. I have been free, in the silence of love when wrapped in a blanket, with warmth contained…
I took myself back to the dream of life, stretched far, its fingers waving in the wind, loose and without direction. I have miles to tread. Un-perturbed this journey beckons. I took myself back to…
There brings, on wave, an immortal sound, to walk on shells, some coral found. And in my hand I grasp at form, and I’m at one with ocean born. For not a whisper aimed at…
Spiderfly Poets from under the tree Sitting together all were there, draped in shadows from acacia branches. Africa is where they meet, where the afternoon sun wraps its comforting rays around all who ask their…
There are rocks in my river, dry and pitted, waiting for rain like old grandmothers waiting for the changing of seasons. Wiping their hands on faded aprons after peeling apples, bagging them and putting them…
this nonsense has been so absurd remember the yellow fluffy bird the one that led a merry dance and then for two months went to France. the hatter stuck his stick in the ground and…
Necessity is the mother of artistic invention. Without pencil paper paint and plight, what is necessary to create, a crying child with hallowed frown upon a mothers holy gown, she lacks a canvas to present,…
Hands clasped to mine we have walked. As giants together we have faced our adventures. And now you face it alone as you have done before. And I face mine as I hurt not to…
Seldom gate is swinging slow, beyond the path we seldom see. And should we seldom want to go, The gate swings shut to stoppeth thee. A breeze brings breathlessness to sigh, for we shall seldom…
