..sweet pungent ink, printing machines; a softer click- and wafting nicotine. One types in inspired fury, one waits for it- hanging on to hope as coats o'er the seats. Soon someone will spill a coffee too- probably chatty Cathy at table four
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Hymns at Dusk (I)
Only the stars can live by the moonand be a part of his night skyThere is no hope for the glow-wormhowever hard it may trySee, the stars they glitter and sparkleadorn and flatter the moonThe worm's presence is of no matterin the grand celestial worldFor what can it bring but a dull shinebefore the full… Continue reading Hymns at Dusk (I)
Cusp of a Kiss
Never again will the same sandy shore be treaded upon oblivious to the crowds of sunbathers and poets. Never again shall the salty sea breeze blow past this northern terrain or mistletoes be gathered prematurely by the suspecting Cupid! It's run its course - whate'er it was - a blue moon, a passing storm... We'll… Continue reading Cusp of a Kiss
Ishaisms 
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