by Brian | Dec 21, 2012 | Living, Poetry
A poem for the season…..enjoy twas’ 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38 when 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven’s gate. their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air…. they could hardly believe all the beauty they saw...
by Brian | Sep 15, 2011 | Love, Poetry
by Sir Thomas Wyatt What means this when I lie alone? I toss, I turn, I sigh, I groan. My bed me seems as hard as stone. What means this? I sigh, I plain continually. The clothes that on my bed do lie Always methink they lie awry. What means this? In slumbers oft for...
