The Easter Flower - by
And many thought it was a sacred sign,
And some called it the resurrection flower;
And I, a pagan, worshiped at its shrine,
Yielding my heart unto its perfumed power.
Easter
Good Friday - by
Am I a stone, and not a sheep, / That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy cross, / To…
It Was Easier - by
Now over the map that took ten million years
/ Of rain and sun to crust like boiler-slag,
/ The lines of fighting men…
Good Friday - by
Three o’clock. The bus lurches
/ round into the sun. ‘D’s this go –‘
/ he flops beside me – ‘right along Bath Street?
/ -…
Easter - by
A white cat
/ dozing on the windowsill
/ on a clear Easter evening,
/ outside the window rustling
/ with the Vilnia’s waters
/ a blossoming plumtree
/ from the hundred-year-old…