Francina & Guests
Today I would like to introduce this beautiful poem by Sarah M Zang: Night rolls in like the Tide Night rolls in like the tide.Mist laden and certainit reigns over the land.Vagrant moonbeams make surfon fields freshly greened. A distant whistle caught in the fogswirls like old memoriesof mornings spent in the rain.Saturated, the lawn …
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It's my honour to introduce to you the wonderful poem 'The Way Home' from the poet Jean-Jacques Fournier. If you would like to read more of Jean-Jacques' poetry , please visit him at his blog: Poetry on a Canapé - I am sure he would like your visit! The Way Home I’d moved on For …
It's my honour to introduce to you the book " Caligula Unbound ", which is a remarkable new poetry book from the poet Alan Reynolds. After reading the excellent written story-telling-poems , and the striking comparison between this Roman emperor and the current state of affairs not only in American Politics , made me decide …
After redesigning and a contents revision , my two English poetry books The Song of the River and Beyond the Threshold are available again. Listen how the old river softly sings so softly the songs of yesterdays, the longing in my soul grows stronger to return to when the river was my home. Out of …
Walk on the Wind She was beautiful in her way Her soul showed in her face. She wrapped me up in a buffalo robe Laid me down and rubbed my feet. She burned sage and sweet grass And lit a pine scented candle She chanted just audibly Until I went to sleep. We dreamed or …
In Memoriam 1: The day the rains came The day the rains came tasted bitter sweet, coffee reflections through french windows, no scent of breakfast toast had drifted to meet his morning dreams upstairs, or mingled slow with the World Service News; as to and fro downstairs a 'hoover' mowed brown carpet pile. That afternoon …
His mind floated through life where it couldn’t be stopped, even his logic kept flight Her face controlled his dreams as he struggled between the crevices of reality below the moon’s supervision He desired to write poetry, wordless poetry on her silky skin, how the touch and taste of her would be rich to his …
On Yellow Mountain monks in saffron robes climb steps to see Buddha's light rolling down the mountainside the sound of chanting voices
The garden is a timeless world with no map; I simply lean a little more to the right or left as did Cézanne and see it all. I sit among the flowers alone but not lonely; they have become friends, the kind who stay around, forgive and maybe even forget, keep with you when fear …
For all those times of what could have been, but never was, for all those chances that have been given, just never taken, and all these years the seasons turned, one by one, now, at the break of dawn, the wind will no longer whisper your name, for time has run out, and all chances …
