Category: Earlier Poems

Lately it seems as though sighs are dew which have turned to frost– […]
Crimson is color of woe which adorns my mold that is shaped by […]
And when I left you beneath cool cotton sheets adored a moment soft, […]
And the cup which filled the spirit with hope was stained red, as […]
In my darkest days you are the first glow of dawn that lights […]
I latchkeyed my way into the month of May, while marmalading few classic […]