Might a beast not have its beauty? The phantom his diva? Nor the hunchback his gypsy? Might a thorn not have its rose?

Swaying in the breeze dancing to the Beat

Night Virginia Carraway Stark Darkness settles In the wind and the mist That rise up from the wild clay soil Like a cool cloak Of dark moon splendour The gloaming is alive With tendrils of fog that seek All that is warm and safe Stars…

It is a precious thing to see a baby born – (An honour I hope you come to know) Better still when the baby is you; bursting forth with such courage and conviction blowing raspberries, and love, at me. I watched you splutter and spurt,…

The problem with poetry Is there are too many rules A sonnet is this way You learn a haiku in school   There’s the ode and Epistle The tanka, the bop Seriously these people have got to be stopped   A sestina should be massacred A Villanelle…

The bonfire roars into the night Crackling twigs erupt in a furor They dance, drink, and laugh around the perimeter In light of summer’s sweet charity The crickets play violin on their legs The music of night, the lullaby of the earth Into the hay…

A book bounded With lines Amongst More lines These lines Hold my truth The ink Which make My words come alive Paint Those things festering Deep in my mind This book Is something I could not leave without For it holds Truths that are yet…

Just a drop of stardust Sends out a ripple in my stomach The love I feel for you Could be seen throughout the entire galaxy Splashed with colors and magical hues   Like watching a nebula bloom You are a black hole I want to get…

I wish that it were easier to let go. Ignoring the traumas of the past, Letting the weights drop free of your shoulders, And wafting up into the clear night sky. I wish it was as easy as, writing the event down on a piece…