Sunday, 13 August 2017
Ten years after
All good things come to an end, and all bad things, too, one supposes, and, as a matter of course, the noncommittal and the inconsequential...
Wednesday, 9 August 2017
The North Sea It's strange how such a cold and formidable thing reminds me of you, its icy breakers failing on a beach we'...
Sunday, 6 August 2017
The Dawning (for Cilla) Albeit far away I still sense you – a silent warmth that stirs me to life – I know you're behind me an...
Wednesday, 2 August 2017
Sticks and Stones They say lots of things and some of them are true. They say love is blind but it's them that can't see. ...
Sunday, 30 July 2017
Blindness (for Cilla) They say love is blind to truth so tell me the truth: what is it you see? Let me hold the words. I need to...
Thursday, 27 July 2017
Souvenir (for Cilla) Was it with words or a kiss we tossed it away, that part inside us both that's gone for good? Or did t...
Sunday, 23 July 2017
The Visitor (for J.) He said he was a ‘visitor.’ She didn’t know the expression but then there was no one to ask: her world was e...
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