Ode to the author ~ I gave myself to a book fell to to vice of each page the unknown adventure lay ahead a whimsy of the authors whim I read on and felt each wo...
Cobbled streets, shop street-Gaillimh in mind. No Avada. de Esteiro. Right next to work, the cobblestones of old Celts. Channelling the energy through feet...
Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove! Thou messenger of Spring! Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat, And woods thy welcome ring. What time the daisy decks the g...
B'hind one chamber door... Lied a poet's heart tendered sore- Ever-more, evermore- Saddened sore- Ever-more. Some might deem him, statured as short... On...
Where’s love today? Who’d care to tell me? Or has it all evolved Into mindless sex, blow jobs and one night stands? Is romance dead and gone forever? ...