When I fell into the orbit of Mick E. Talbot’s poetry – gets you two free &^%$#@s, Lady Yasmin! – I expected good and got great. This but one more example. Enjoy.
“I escape the boundaries /Of imagination” still stunning in such simple complexity. This has to be a boot title – perhaps a compilation of your poems, Yassy. I am past awed by your wordchoice and wordplay, each rings so true and brings smiles of delight.
The color of breath In the blue of heartbeat Sweet strength of unseen.. I find my heart as Soul succumbs to the sweet strength Of spirit's wisdom... My spirit flowers As starglow sparks ivory In a moon etched heart... With heartbound eyes I escape the boundaries Of imagination.... Vanilla laced clouds Wait for the melody of night Ad i find sweet strength In the existence of your heartbeat..
Almost blackened, these Brussels sprouts are spicy-sweet-tart-crunchy-soft yumminess and perfect for the holiday table. via Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Cranberries, Bacon and Bacon-Jalapeño Jam — Glover Gardens Cookbook
Almost blackened, these Brussels sprouts are spicy-sweet-tart-crunchy-soft yumminess and perfect for the holiday table.
I’ve finished self printing quite few copies of Tullawalla, a Booklet/Leaflet of my latest poems. I actually make them up off my own computer, for our local MS Charity Shop, and they sell my Poems over the counter, with all proceeds going to the Geelong MS Shop. And along with myself selling/pushing copies to my […]
possibly “an evening etude”? But, first, go look up etude – did so: well, close. An instrumental study of sorts one might say. Do the leaves remind of ivory with tiny teardropped tympani playing the part of fingers: my what a wide span you play. Thanks, Bruce for the trip to the diccionario!
of rain upon leaves
an evening prelude
I believe I once learned that the best pies come from non-Jack ‘O Lanterns – different breed, but since I just had my first pumpkin pie but three years ago, who am I to gainsay Bruce’s granny? The Haiku, Senryu makes my want to try for my second slice – vengeance on all those scary smiling not-pies!
in granny’s kitchen
become pumpkin pies
Whilst reading The Likes on a Mick E. Talbot work I reblogged recently.
TO ALL MY DEAR READERS, A GREAT PIECE OF NEWS FOR ME TODAY, THIS POEM HAS BEEN SELECTED TO APPEAR IN THE GEELONG WRITERS ANTHOLOGY 2017. And I’m feeling blessed and honoured, on this, Leonard Cohen’s Anniversary week of his death last year, 7th November. And thank you, Leonard Cohen, for being there as a guiding light through-out all of my life.
‘Til Death Do Us Part.
She’s there, in that tall pale building of brick.
Where the Nightingales care and tend to the sick.
She’s there, away from home and her comforting bed.
Where the Doctors try to fix the endless ills, from her head.
She’s there, her absence, reminds me of future plights.
Where my anxieties for her well being, endure her fight.
She’s there, I need to visit her, all day, and every night.
Where the distance to reach her soul, is out of sight.
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Wanna help camel
go thrash all that straw? Payback
for those broken humps!
Monday and Friday:
no rain – Thanksgiving all wet..
Noah gets revenge!