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I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold...

The longer it takes
My heart it bakes

This thing…

I see the days
I feel the nights

This thing…

As sure as the sky is blue
All my heart wants is you!

Poked me once and said –
“Sing me a song!” I said
I don’t sing so well
Poked me twice and said –
“Write me a poem!” I said
I don’t write well either
Poked me thrice and said –
“Then what can you do?”
I said darling,...

Standing at a cliff’s edge
Far into the sea I see
The ancient breeze drawing close
Rippling the bare sea
Gently it stings my eyes
Swooshes over me with grace
With the sound of a howling wolf-
And the scent of salt and...

Where i would have fallen,
Now I only stumble
To the brother I would have struck
I suffice with an insult

I am yet to turn the other cheek
Or take a brother the extra mile
It may only have been yesterday
When I was...

Where flowers bloom,
so does hope.
Life's too short
for empty vases,
so I fill mine
with color—
petals and peace,
right where I need them.
A gentle reminder
beauty still grows.

Day by day
Smiles grow wearisome
And the spark within
Fades and fades
Slowly I start to see the cold
And feel the dark!

I have brought the sacrificial goat
To the heap of grass, leaves and bark

He has forgotten his last beheading
But round his neck garland-like
hangs a mark

We are all threads
Hooked to the needle of time
Poking in and out
Stitching the fabric of our lives
There are never ends or beginnings
Only life getting bigger
Until the needle
Runs out of thread!

Pastime with good company
I love and shall until I die.
Grudge who lust, but none deny,
so God be pleased, thus live will I.
For my pastance
hunt, sing, and dance.
My heart is set:
all goodly sport
for my...

The plow has savaged this sweet field
Misshapen clods of earth kicked up
Rocks and twisted roots exposed to view
Last year’s growth demolished by the blade.

I have plowed my life this way
Turned over a whole...

Ecstatic bird songs pound
the hollow vastness of the sky
with metallic clinkings—
beating color up into it
at a far edge,—beating it, beating it
with rising, triumphant ardor,—
stirring it into warmth,
quickening in it a spreading...