landlocked blues (Remove filter)
By Pessall Brook
The remnants of a myth
torn like sodden paper
A worker in the world of words
now where are your opus lines
where does your gilded poetry reside
A hooded figure
cloaked by Pessall Brook
looking for lighthouses
searching for the sea
O, how did you go
this far wrong?
Show me your pages
blackened with rhymes
your songs of tides
and ships to far away islands
Thunder clapping above
r...
Wednesday 11th December 2024 1:45 pm
Recent Comments
David RL Moore on The Angelus Prayer (The Holy Family Church, Gaza 17 Jul 25)
4 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on To Heaven Or To Hell …
8 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on Go green NOW and stay alive !!
9 hours ago
JOHN F B TUCKER on THE STERILISED HOTEL
9 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on Tarnishment
9 hours ago
Ray Miller on Watching Glastonbury On The TV
12 hours ago
David RL Moore on What of Courage?
16 hours ago
Martin Elder on Go green NOW and stay alive !!
18 hours ago
Martin Elder on THE STERILISED HOTEL
18 hours ago
Jon on Waves
1 day ago