It’s saidand to a faultit’s donewhat’s done, we didon Christmas Eve.I checked my watchas my youthful years fadedand smoked a cigarette.I moved my eyes aroundthe living room window.White lacy flakesdance through the atmosphereaccumulating a glow.I slipped over slick streetslaced with fairy lust,falling fast intoa crush;eyes searching for truthat a coffee date.A hazelnut … [Read more...] about Holiday Love: A Coffee Date, By: Andrew Cyr
Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 X. Rob Roy’s Grave, By: William Wordsworth
A Famous man is Robin Hood,The English ballad-singer's joy!And Scotland has a thief as good,An outlaw of as daring mood;She has her brave ROB ROY!Then clear the weeds from off his Grave,And let us chant a passing stave,In honour of that Hero brave! Heaven gave Rob Roy a dauntless heartAnd wondrous length and strength of arm:Nor craved he more to quell his foes,Or keep his … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 X. Rob Roy’s Grave, By: William Wordsworth
Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 VIII. The Solitary Reaper, By: William Wordsworth
Behold her, single in the field,Yon solitary Highland Lass!Reaping and singing by herself;Stop here, or gently pass!Alone she cuts and binds the grain,And sings a melancholy strain;O listen! for the Vale profoundIs overflowing with the sound. No Nightingale did ever chauntMore welcome notes to weary bandsOf travellers in some shady haunt,Among Arabian sands:A voice so … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 VIII. The Solitary Reaper, By: William Wordsworth
Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 VII. Stepping Westward, By: William Wordsworth
"What, you are stepping westward?" "Yea."'Twould be a 'wildish' destiny,If we, who thus together roamIn a strange Land, and far from home,Were in this place the guests of Chance:Yet who would stop, or fear to advance,Though home or shelter he had none,With such a sky to lead him on? The dewy ground was dark and cold;Behind, all gloomy to behold;And stepping westward seemed … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 VII. Stepping Westward, By: William Wordsworth
Salvations Of The Sea, By: Arlin Mudju
somedays i thinkmy salvationfeels like the cold roughnessof the cobbles beneath my kneesthe press of the wind against my cheeka rain-drenched coat my only shelterand my only warmththe trickling red that leaksfrom the claws of the metal crucifixof my sole hopesometimes i seethe sunrise over the iridescent seathe pearly froth spilling onto golden sandi can feel the swirl of the … [Read more...] about Salvations Of The Sea, By: Arlin Mudju