• The Felling Of Chestnut Tree

    Lately, I too felled my chestnut tree,
    without a burring saw or a fixing winch,
    but by balmy eyes and burning effrontery.

    Tree-old and gnarled, a blaring galleon,... more »

  • The Irony Of Convergence

    It was a choice of facility,
    to either pick dreams or reality.

    I dither, I flinch, I sigh... more »