feelsomething (Remove filter)
stigma of a damselfly
the woodland hoarfrost dressing tendrils
could no less love the light;
it is in this very conflict I find myself
in cavernous worship to both sides,
this delicate balance of paradox,
pirouetting on a sheet of glass,
untinged
by the busy of the world,
alive in its own concention.
Thursday 15th August 2024 5:04 pm
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sands of Time
6 hours ago
Trevor Alexander on Sands of Time
9 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Old
9 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on WHEN YOU WALKED INTO MY LIFE - a lyric
10 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Trinity River Days
10 hours ago
Robert C Gaulke on Feels like home
11 hours ago
Keletso on Seeds of Joy and Sorrow
12 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on This Silent Landscape
14 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet No 333
14 hours ago
David RL Moore on Tragic Bus
15 hours ago