There is a language dead
that grips the heart
from deep within its crypt.
Tag Archives: poetry on love
The Net
I wished that love
was not far-flung
as foreign coasts
Do not Fall For a Man Like Me
Do not fall for a man like me
I am not blind; I do not see.
I am the reason storms have names
Her Autumn – Poem
When among the trees will autumn come?
What multitude of words will I have lost
among the soft-dying of sweet summer poppies
The Nature of the Heart
The heart is a hunter searching
before the dead of winter has melted;