At times, old insecurities come to the fore, hand in hand with wistful memories of past lovers, loss, death and grief. At other times, I have bitter quarrels with God late into the night about sin, redemption and child-death; and when solace will not come, in despair, I run for shelter to life's true confessional—poetry.
Wednesday, 29 November 2017
Wednesday, 15 November 2017
Winter tales - a poem by Chris Zachariou
An icy North Wind sailing
on green and purple seas
whips and mauls the land.
The frozen peaks
of the Anatolian Mountains
tower in the distance
and the Moor is howling
in the Devil's Sea.
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