Eve before the apple dreamt
in softened pastel shades
of limpid waters, shady nooks,
pale suns and gentle rains.
And Adam too, was placid, calm
and even in his ways.
But something in the apple burnt,
a poison at its core
that left her with a taste for fire -
unknown in Eden's bounds -
a thirst that Paradise itself
could never satisfy.
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
A Birthday in April ~ Wordsworth Prompt from The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (The first of three posts which will celebrate the l...
What makes us suppose that only the living grieve? Now all but lost in this new and familiar world of tall, leaning-together buildings...