Nestled between green rolling hills, exposed to the ire of howling gales, rises the desolate manor house surrounded by bare and barren dales.
The Apotheosis of War | Poetry | Spillwords
Second poem accepted at Spillwords 🙂
The Rocky Road to Beauty | Spillwords
Poetry published at Spillwords!
A Winter Rose
You searched all ends of the worlds for a rose that would survive the the harshest of winter. How happy you were when you finally found it ! You nourished and nurtured it, gave it the best of conditions - prayed that it would spring forth and bloom into its beautiful self even in the… Continue reading A Winter Rose
My Least Favorite Star
In dreams, I fall through pleasing stars there thrives no tragic gloom; and then when daylight fades the night I hear chilling cries of doom.
Moon Magic
When the evening sky is stained with red, and the sun disappears behind the clouds, drawing her chariot across the eastern sky glints an opaque moon in a pearly shroud.
Massacre of the Innocents | Musings on a Relevant Piece of War Art
My mind predicts, the fall of future empires, the complete collapse of human civilization resulting from the tyrannical rampages of merciless dictators who raise a battle-cry that is sure to slaughter legions of innocents, bringing the end of times a century closer.
The Little Star Thief
Stars, low light, frail kindly light pinned to the dark fabric of the night embroidered with yarns of silvery thread in celestial patterns twinkling o'erhead. Some playful fingers set them stray, each loosened star drifts miles away; white streaks of light flare up and 'round, bright glinting stars come falling down. I wonder wherein lie… Continue reading The Little Star Thief
A Gift From The Sea
Some days, it recedes far from the shore leaving traces of splintered shells and pebbles revealing all that is broken and beautiful on the wet golden sand - kissed by the sun.
Amber Love | Autumn Poetry
Creator: Adam Oehler Stepping on a small wooden boat rowing circles with two small hands; swirling and swashing drowsy waters, I glided past the autumnal lands. The white sun was wry and mellow; the blue river looked darker now; the stillness was often deafening - broken by crackling of the boughs. I reached the vivid… Continue reading Amber Love | Autumn Poetry
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