Category: Poetry

  • Checkmate

    Bishop – Dashing Tangentally, Across the chequered floor, Cries “The King is Dead!” For his Castles are destroyed, His Knights in disarray, The Footsoldiers -…

  • London?

    I stepped beyond… The station’s bounds Familiar streets before me Familiar for but a brief time Bishopsgate – should take me to… I’m no longer…

  • The Harvester

    The Harvester, grimed in dust, Silhouetted by setting sun On weary homeward road, With early frost in valley below Morrow’s work already set Like clay…