map (Remove filter)
At The Grave Of St Valentine
there's a point on the map when
doubts and desapir veer to meet
and idly parade nowhere down a
lonely slum of a one-way street
no compass charts this latitude
where time gross reality bends
for its a quarter of lifeless loss
the geography where love ends
I've drifted here so many times
its memories my endless bane
before me for I sense a reprise
I am sure...
Sunday 14th February 2021 11:16 am
Recent Comments
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
46 minutes ago
R A Porter on Sashaying to Byzantium
3 hours ago
Ray Miller on Dominoes
6 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on Beneath the Armour: Reaching for True Strength
7 hours ago
Reggie's Ghost on Dominoes
7 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Early winter's day
7 hours ago
John Coopey on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
7 hours ago
John Marks on Early winter's day
8 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
8 hours ago
Rick Varden on Sweet Memories
8 hours ago