fantasy (Remove filter)
On Henrietta Street
The children howl, the house is hell
you close your eyes to cast that spell
Rising high above the endless squabbles
to meet me down upon those sodden cobbles
The rain and fog are gently taunting
your white shirt billows, opaque and haunting
On Henrietta Street…
Two hundred stairs, do I descend
with full-beam smile to my treasured friend
These precious moments, we get to steal
...
Wednesday 6th December 2023 10:50 am

Recent Comments
Mike McPeek on The Truth About Poetry
15 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on YOU'RE THE TORIES IN DISGUISE
1 day ago
Stephen Gospage on Whisper from Ukraine
1 day ago
Jon on Imaginary imaginings
1 day ago
Robert C Gaulke on School of Life Detention
1 day ago
John Coopey on YOU'RE THE TORIES IN DISGUISE
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on School of Life Detention
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Truth About Poetry
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Limerick Triptych about Dypstychs [The Life and Loves of Union Jack]
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 48. We’re with you Greta!]
1 day ago