A Stolen Kiss

does the snow remember the leaf it so briefly kissed as it died melting or the somber grey of winter on her burning gold promises of spring rays of bergamot claim the tender lot sending june to her cheeks blushing seasons alight – flushed red with august – rushed auspicious lush roses dripping frozen ground…

Ashen Bed of the Lake of Fire – A Cywydd Llosgyrnog

heaven explodes with champagne fire matchstick treetops conduct fierce choirs snapping limbs tire cracking sharp timbered titans tumble beneath aqueous cinder flowing seethes drowned earth still breathes ashen bark

Cloud Formations – A Lethrannaegecht Mor

grey clouds like pillars found over the marsh stood at attention with tension and starch marched in formation for soundless they go glissading on ice nice ebb and swift flow

Nature’s Kiss – A Sonnet

the taste of persimmon after the frost its sugar clinging to my yearning lips born of a precious seed once be’lieved lost concealed within a field of rosen hips a musky perfume hangs upon the air arisen from a garden doused in dew the tender tended fruit does swell and flare as the silken petals…

A Stone’s Throw – A Ballade

still i struggle to find my place and to accept my lot in life and to sustain a breakneck pace be’set on all cor’ners by strife pushed to the edge by blade of knife i press myself against its edge exhale a cry as shrill as fife and turn my head to face the ledge…

He, She & the Smoking Bishop – A Blank Verse Poem

and their cries echoed with the ringing bells as christmas crested on the chilly breeze heated words hung with odious timbre boiling over like spiced wine ‘pon a flame just as potent yet not so fragrant nor as sweet as black liquorice and peppercorn christmas spirits lacking complexity mulled with bitter words dripping acidic as…

The Word Exchange – A Blank Verse Poem

so many words are wasted in a day exhausted in tedious dialogue haphazardly inserted in emails frivolously texted without a thought lavishly painted purple in our prose pretentiously spouted in poetry repetitively belted out in song meandering in legato fashion excruciating staccato pacing exchanging words without a second thought ringing hollow like a dead tree…

Do You Feel a Bit Peckish?

within a derelict detachment of thought a morbid curiosity expands shrinking the image of concubine earth eliminating hunger of satisfaction thirsting lust in this dripping heat

Go Out

she keeps asking to go out on our days off after work to let loose and have fun and i keep creating reasons why i’d love to yet can’t i shy from her touch her gentle hands her warm smile because the truth of it is i’m afraid of getting close afraid to let her…