Like an ordinary stalk in a purple kingdom, I stand unnamed among crowns of bloom, On a blanket of lavender dreams and sweet alpine potion, Where mountains breathe hush into the sky. The rows bow gently, disciplined yet wild, A royal procession dressed in violet light, Petals holding centuries of calm, Their silence richer than prayer. Bees write soft hymns in passing, Wind moves like silk through the stems, And the earth, ancient and patient, Keeps its secrets perfumed. I am the only one who...

Each time I devour these succulent daredevils Igniting greed in the lonesome hallways of my appetite I am reminded of what a ghastly...

I’m a blind child of English literature Who fell in love with every nook & corner Of Stratford-upon-Avon Of how it was written in my...