whitby (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
Paul Ryan on Buy weed and cocaine in Oldenburg Telegram @daxywood47 or signal @daxywood47
1 hour ago
Paul Ryan on Buy mdma and ketamine in Gelsenkirchen Telegram @daxywood47 or signal @daxywood47
1 hour ago
Paul Buchheit on Stephen Gospage
6 hours ago
Paul Buchheit on August 30: Grief Awareness Day
6 hours ago
John Coopey on OLD AGE KICKS
6 hours ago
kJ Walker on Half Our Flags Are Upsidedown
7 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on OLD AGE KICKS
10 hours ago
John Coopey on OLD AGE KICKS
10 hours ago
Auracle on This Little Scene
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Half Our Flags Are Upsidedown
15 hours ago