crumbs of expression tossed along my narrowing paths. gobbled up like stale croutons fed to birds. birds burping on crusts dive off into their own wind. give me a caw, caw or as much as a chirp. on your way…
crumbs of expression tossed along my narrowing paths. gobbled up like stale croutons fed to birds. birds burping on crusts dive off into their own wind. give me a caw, caw or as much as a chirp. on your way…
Mrs. Chippendale stood with an elegantly dominant feminine stature. She was furnished as a chairperson and Cabinet Secretary for the British Cabinet since the Queen Anne period of the early 18th century. Her classic style became the essential pattern for…
This restless mind takes flight. My slumbering fortune has been told. Print of blue on paper of white. Awakened with subconscious scheming. Consumed with a dim sum of meanings. A quart or pint? These thoughts alone, I unfold. Pork fried…
~ an EWK Poe’em ©2015 EWK
♪♪♪ “Letters I’ve written, Never meaning to send. Beauty I’d always missed With these eyes before, Just what the truth is I can’t say anymore.” … ♪♪♪ ~~~ I can recall many letters I’ve written, never meaning to send… I…
Memories of us and the walks we made. Hands held together as we forgave. Shadows had fallen from every tree. Stories held long within their leaves. Thoughts of times we often shared. Whom else I’d consider? I hadn’t dared. Heads…
Pen and paper, patiently poised… pending penning of potential poetic publications; pertaining to periodic perking of perceptive prose and purposes. ~ an EWK Poe’em ©2015 EWK
It was an Origami kind of love. All folds and creases. In all the right places. We were two sheets of paper held together in a honorable pattern of texture, forms and color. The makers’ hands created our shapes as…
Thou ravaged bride of quieted schemes, Thou loathsome child born of troubled times seen. Hence forth into turmoils, anguish and woe, For many years now your economy slows. What dubious notions have you foreseen? The lackluster trades?, A minus GDP?…
What is love? We all must say. Just a chosen word? Or a promised way. What is love? If not forever. It comes to us. For worse or for better. What is love? The poets have written. Rhymes without reason.…
‘A Shot in the Dark’ BANG! … As the screen door slapped shut. It was a moonlit night. Not a full moon, a pale slice of pewter. Looking down at us. No one was around to be a witness. Warm…
Her name was Mary. Mary would carry baskets of blossoms and blooms she had picked that day from meadows touched with a morning dew. As the sun would set, she’d pin a red rose upon her chest. Her daily tour…
Up and away it goes. Tethered to more than just a string. Extending the heights of youthful fun, soaring along the unmarked course of a child’s imagination. Let’s go fly a kite. Into the clouds of our yesterday’s. Hold on…