'The bitterness lingers, nags at my palette/like a lump of words unspoken.'
I measure the road/ in distance you won't travel.
St Luke’s (When I was young, my nan, used to tell me ‘The church’ is the people, not the building.') Once each window was a work of art, every few feet a different story being told- parables pictured on stained glass, which, when the light shone through, blessed the aisles with colour. The building … Continue reading Poem – St Luke’s (Liverpool’s ‘Bombed out Church’)
'When you wake/to find your world/changed overnight/'
'...we wrote messages to God on paper leaves/'
Writing is an ongoing conversation with everybody who has ever written. So, lets talk!