Poetry, unlike prose, is often a gift, the unexpected prodigy of intense emotion. It appears from deep within us and is not given to our beck or call. Whether it appears from deep within our subconscious or arrives like a radio signal, it is a complex communication that speaks directly to our sentiments.
As such poems are by their nature sternly personal things, they may light a spark in some and leave others untouched, a mark of our natures.
Northern Sleep A view from a window in a town in the north of England.
Sultan's Seagulls Love in Istanbul
Paleomolecularbiology Digging in our past and reconstructing our loves
Minehead Revisited The British sea-
Humans Out Now Perhaps it would have been best if humans had never been
Read Between the Lines A complex rhyme embedded in several layers
The Ever New Holocaust How can we ignore their pain and still be human?
Once Again Must it always be this way?
Seasons for You A love story for a forbidden love
