Poetry & Other Peculiar Things
Look up
Look up, look up from that tiny screen. Can’t you see me, gleaming softly just above you? I remember your mother,dancing with me on summer eves.Your father, playing pirates and princeswithin my...
Look up
Look up, look up from that tiny screen. Can’t you see me, gleaming softly just above you? I remember your mother,dancing with me on summer eves.Your father, playing pirates and princeswithin my...
Weary and teary
I am ill, my dear, ill from all the wounds your hands have made — from the smoke that clouds my breath, the noise that drowns my birds, the taking that forgets to tend, and...
Weary and teary
I am ill, my dear, ill from all the wounds your hands have made — from the smoke that clouds my breath, the noise that drowns my birds, the taking that forgets to tend, and...
Did you forget me?
Did you forget me? Because I never forgot you. Your footsteps pressed into my soilwhen you were still an innocent soul.Your laughter, carried by my winds,drifted far and wideand sent...
Did you forget me?
Did you forget me? Because I never forgot you. Your footsteps pressed into my soilwhen you were still an innocent soul.Your laughter, carried by my winds,drifted far and wideand sent...
Dark Realms
I know these dark realms all too well. Where roots weave through forgotten years, and whispers outlast every breath. I have watched you wander here before, footsteps wobbly, heart uncertain,mind racing,always searching for somethingyou...
Dark Realms
I know these dark realms all too well. Where roots weave through forgotten years, and whispers outlast every breath. I have watched you wander here before, footsteps wobbly, heart uncertain,mind racing,always searching for somethingyou...
Homecoming
You have come back to me, even after years of neglect and taking, bruising and aching, I have been here waiting. The old ones whispered of this day —that the wandering heartswould find...
Homecoming
You have come back to me, even after years of neglect and taking, bruising and aching, I have been here waiting. The old ones whispered of this day —that the wandering heartswould find...
Small Beginnings
It begins small, as it always does. A hand brushing against the bark, gently caressing the wounds of our shared past. A breath of clean air, filling our lungs, mending our fears. A...
Small Beginnings
It begins small, as it always does. A hand brushing against the bark, gently caressing the wounds of our shared past. A breath of clean air, filling our lungs, mending our fears. A...