I am a beggar at your door, the steps rising before my hesitant feet. I can hear the sounds within your kingdom drawing me, despite my lack of confidence. My feet unclean, I could wipe them more than once and they would still not shed the grime. So I turn and sit at the foot … More A Poem: The Beggar
Somehow, although I recognise you can still arrive swift as flood or fire, somehow, I think you come more often through the back door; while I seek out signs and wonders you’ve already appeared, and at the altar of my heart have lit the hearth. And my house, to which you sit expectant of my … More A Poem: At my Hearth
We have peace and plenty here. Can you hear it in the silence, and the hum of life in this place. That carries like a musical refrain, from one ear to the next, from your heart to mine. We have love in this place. Its in the space where your foot lifts and mine rests. … More A Poem: Our Place
Living Tree Poetry 