Primarily for poetry and illustrations. Thursday, March 8, 2018. A 55 for JAJ after a long absence. Piano-forte, does it matter? And the keys push back. The keys hold the power. In the center lies the music, that sweet spot - freedom. 169; Gay Reiser Cannnon - 3-8-18. Monday, April 10, 2017. When Time Stops and Nothing Breathes. Near the fence, as the. Tuesday, April 5, 2016.

Nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands. OR SCREAM IN ALL CAPS. Or if you need a prompt you can check out one of the past prompts, like the Shadorma. The bar is open just for you.

Poetry, prose, and lyrics from Henry Clemmons. Monday, August 15, 2011. I changed over to WordPress. Thursday, August 11, 2011. My attempt at a Ghazal for dversePoets. Love sings through trees from river breeze, eyes closed my mind churns dream. Deformed at birth the scourge of earth, worn cloth does hide her face.

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Shadows, dark and devouring, lurking on every street. Friday, 27 December 2013. The Rucksack Project, Bradford. One day early in November my wife, Ally. Approached me with tears in her eyes. One of her friends had posted The Rucksack Project video. On a Facebook group that she belongs to and it had moved her profoundly. She asked me to watch it and I did. Within minutes we had agreed that we needed to create a Rucksack Project event near to home.

A journey filled with many familiar paths and some not yet taken. all leading to the ever-changing destinations just waiting to be discovered. Friday, October 14, 2011. It inspired the following words. Lend to early hidden light.

We close our eyes and kiss in caves,. Asylum from the dervish sea. Swept swift and beached by brutal waves,. Broken, shattered, pieces scattered,. Hush, hideaway so none can see. We close our eyes and kiss in caves. Millennia of regret; cold stones at our backs. Clutching worry in work-worn hands,. While the gift of the unopened moment.

It started with your voice, your shimmering breath. Calling - so strange! My name. I rose, undreamed,. Across that space it seemed. The world unfolded of itself, a findern. Then I came upon you, lost,. Pitiful - until you saw me there, ghost. Of your ghost, shade of your shade, reflection. You bent to me, passion. Finding mirrored passion, the gloaming coal.

Friday, August 7, 2015. This will be the last post here on Verse Escape till further notice. If I return to the world of blogging, it will most likely be at some other site and some future unknown time. Still, for now I am leaving the blog up for those who might want to revisit it, and in case events at some point change my mind. We will meet again, if only when I read your own words.

Showcasing Creative, Playful and Beautiful. Lest I miss the Sun,. The light of my destiny Gavriel Navarro. The verses below have been crafted. Using a variation on the glosa poetic form. Weaving new lines with the. Glosa read by the Author. Whether of war, or. Of undress, or redress,.