Special thanks to Sarah Connor and Jane Dougherty for this uniquely wonderful gastronomical sonnet, composed on the spur of the moment via a Twitter exchange: Shall I compare thee to a hot pork pie?No ta, nor neither steak and kidney, please.And yet the scent of gravy flutters byWith sweet effluves of pale green mushy peas.I... Continue Reading →
The best of love is shelt'ring form the coldwhen time and tide turn dark and skies grow dim;our hands, hearts and arthritic limbs grow oldyet love's spark shines as bright as e'er within: remember when the sun of youth was oursyou took my hand and boldly said to me'If you'll be mine, then gladly I'll... Continue Reading →
It is the season of the heart’s delightlit by the winds of change in chambers darkand sinuous corridors wrapped up in night:somewhere within ignites that fevered spark. Why do we love? With what sense of restraint?What absoluteness and what tortured doubt?Conning the hero’s part, within we faintdisplaying not our inner fears without.No notion nor a... Continue Reading →
It is the winter of this strangest yearwhen closeness equalled danger and aloneconsidered safe, we faced the fear of life in dull dejected isolation. Or else, locked down inside the lion’s denwe found ourselves imprisoned, desperate for some source of escape, a hand, a friendwe hoped for help, but help arrived too late. For what shall we... Continue Reading →
