By Lillian Bradbury We are given life, we survive, we are protected.A region of gasses and vapours enclosedYet moving freely around our earthThey show a celestial sphere of bodies, luminous in the night sky. A waxing moon reveals the outline…
By Lillian Bradbury Nest building, cooing and couples a-wooingThe sound of a cuckoo somewhere.The vernal compulsions of buds through expulsionsBrings sweetness and life to the air. The first point of Aries when regrowth, it variesAs nature ascends from the earthSurging…
By Lillian Bradbury Upon earth’s mantle we take different pathsSome travel across deserts scorched with droughtOr moraine climes where rocks and crags litterOthers cross terrains of wilderness, volcanic matter and ash. Striatal layers of minerals are laid down.Marble and gemstones,…
By Simon Robinson Adramelech Suddenly,I realise. There are no fish, only beguilement. Startled, Adramelech awakens.His comfortable home discoveredand flee he cannot,for there is no Adramelech.Only beguilement. The peacock’s wings,Cover all.Yet even they are empty. Not the mind, yet not not…
"Vampirica" is a playful and mysterious poem by PJ about Patricia, an enigmatic figure who seems to defy time and human conventions. With hints of gothic intrigue, nocturnal habits, and an eerie connection to Whitby, this poem weaves humor and dark fantasy into a lighthearted yet compelling narrative. Vampire #GothicPoetry #DarkHumor #Poetry #Supernatural #Nocturnal #Whitby #Mystery #PJPoems #ModernPoetry #DarkFantasy
The Future is a Blank Page As I start to write this I am staring at a blank page I have written many pages before this one Some good, some bad, some immaterial, many that are best forgotten ALL are…
Home. The Rye runs into the DerwentThe Derwent flows down to the seaThis land, these rivers, this RyedaleThese are the heart of me. My life moves forward, and I move alongBut Ryedale comes right along with meThis land holds my…
Where Hope and Dreams Abide How do you choose a bookwhere your hopes and dreams abideDo you pass along rows… using your hand as a guideOr glance at their covers which attract and delightPerhaps at the airport…one for the flight…
I am a profesinal sine riterI lernt it from the intanetI doesn’t hav a proper jobI won it in a bet I had to lern to spelWhen riting on the wallI just carnt seem to get no wrkNo one evr…
A profoundness of profundityis messing with my lifeAn intenseness of intensityis causing me such strife Non- viable viabilitiesare clouding my decisionsTo chart a course and plan my wayrequires much precision My indecision is divisivemy compass doesn’t workI’m secure in insecuritylost…