Garden of Remembrance

She prefers to dance in the garden of remembrance

amongst the stones,

she lives to hear the quiver

of bones.

A dark beauty with an ashen visage,

embosomed by pirouettes of a lethal kind,

like her deceptive nature, perfectly aligned.

Death is the pith coming from her lips,

while her raven

forgathers putrescent flesh,

from her victim's hips.

Because Angels Are In White…

The poem is on Doctors who were heroes to us in the time of Covid-19

The Book is Being Written

How we observe and how we reflect.

The Dreary Faceless

The observations and reflections of a traveller in a foreign land.

The Model House

The facades of a perfect home.

The Woman Who

This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.