hotbed (Remove filter)
Flowers Are Yesterday
I never saw such a posy of carnations
A flush that shade rose to my cheeks
They were delivered each day at first
Before long it was every few weeks
Flowers are yesterday and I know it
Reality can cope without fine blooms
The mundane stuff is more important
Like securing a set of cheap rooms
Memories of those sprays sustain me
Even now I can smell that African l...
Wednesday 9th September 2020 10:48 am
Recent Comments
David RL Moore on What of Courage?
7 minutes ago
David RL Moore on Waiting
1 hour ago
Jon on Claustrophobia
1 hour ago
Red Brick Keshner on sunbeam records
2 hours ago
Mike Bartram on Diogo Jota RIP 1996 2025
10 hours ago
Nigel Astell on A Poetry Pint with a Unique Taste of Evening Entertainment
11 hours ago
Nigel Astell on July 2025 Collage Poem: Dancing on the Edge
11 hours ago
john short on ARRIVAL OF CONCRETE
13 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Sugar !!!
14 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sugar !!!
15 hours ago