Every Day Is A Gift With A

The Stars Are Filming Us For No One.

Like The Sand And The Oyster, It's A Creative Irritant. In Each Poem, I'm Trying To Reveal A Truth, So It Can't Have A Fictional Beginning.

I Like To Think That I'm A Sort Of Poet For Our Times.

Where I Lived - Winter And Hard Earth.i Sat In My Cold Stone Roomchoosing Tough Words, Granite, Flint,to Break The Ice. My Broken Heart -i Tried That, But It Skimmed,flat, Over The Frozen Lake.she Came From A Long, Long Way,but I Saw Her At Last, Walking,my Daughter, My Girl, Across The Fields,in Bare Feet, Bringing All Spring's Flowersto Her Mother's House. I Swearthe Air Softened And Warmed As She Moved,the Blue Sky Smiling, None Too Soon,with The Small Shy Mouth Of A New Moon.

I Always Say That I'll Have A Go And See Whether The Poem Works And If It Does, Then Fine.