sorrow (Remove filter)
Two poems for lost love
A hearty breakfast
We take our coffee black these days,
Saccharined and sugar free.
Our milk of human kindness soured
To curds and whey, to you and me.
And over silent breakfasts sit.
Where headline barricades rise up.
We shed no tears for what was spilled,
When lips once kissed our loving cup.
Our toast is dry and always burned,
The marmalade, now bitter peel
And all we’ve left is crusts and...
Sunday 18th January 2009 11:16 am
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'What can writers and poets possibly do in the age of Trump, Farage and Starmer?'
8 minutes ago
Mike McPeek on Civilities
37 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
1 hour ago
John Marks on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
2 hours ago
Hélène on Better Sight...
2 hours ago
Hélène on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
2 hours ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Where is THIS Jerusalem?
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on A Cut Above
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 31. Brussels Boycott]
5 hours ago