A kind of blue
The canvas is a drab, cumulonimbus grey, a kind of blue, silver lined in muted brasswe slowly slide, betweenthe amber bassand lime-green wisps on skins.let ourselves be caught in the […]
The canvas is a drab, cumulonimbus grey, a kind of blue, silver lined in muted brasswe slowly slide, betweenthe amber bassand lime-green wisps on skins.let ourselves be caught in the […]
It starts with whispered strings at dawn of woodwinds; pitter-patter from the thicket: dulce wren and raindrops. Then the horn; a skein of geese, and for breeze and brook: andante: […]
Strummed on strings, perhaps it’s more my drum that singes hearts and sings with soil beneath my feet — It’s earth, this night, this dance perchance a moment or forever […]
Finally she was alone – resting. I had been watching her graceful dance; the magic of her presence energized the melodies. Despite fears I had to act. I grabbed two […]
You are the strings that resonate on emptiness, the timpani that syncopate my beating heart; you are conductor’s sheets of unplayed symphonies. Together we explore the starlit harmonies of lightyear […]
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis
Now we see through a glass, darkly
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry, haiku. Life, word play, puns, free verse
About fantastical places and other stuff