portent (Remove filter)
PORTENTOUS PROGNOSIS
(If Mother Earth could speak...)
I’m the first light of dawn setting fire to the skies,
the awe that ends with a soft, sated sigh.
I’m the slow, gentle sway of ancient, lofty trees,
branches of life filled with wonders to be.
I am sands and seas; a warm summer breeze
blowing soft, whispered tunes over ever-changing dunes.
I am stars in the heavens sailing high overhe...
Monday 20th July 2015 3:58 pm
Recent Comments
Graham Sherwood on Bob Dylan
2 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The World Poisoner
8 minutes ago
David RL Moore on One thing becomes another
1 hour ago
Stephen Gospage on Bill
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Forgive, Not Forget
16 hours ago
Hélène on We Rise
19 hours ago
Tom Doolan on In Your Arms
21 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Return to Waterloo
23 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on One thing becomes another
1 day ago
Mike Bartram on 'Baby Bear'
1 day ago