My life is a cage but on the page I'm free.
Stories, poetry, anecdotes, thoughts.
Past's sanctuary Future fallout protection An ark carved in rock
By Dane Fuller3 years ago in Poets
Silent in slumber Measured in feet or metres As if numbers count
Unseen in darkness Peaking down on worlds below And breathing softly
Many men have died High priestess of sacrifice Scaling your altar
A thousand faces Winter hat of white serene Sky on your shoulders
He had travelled from the valley, to attend the union rally. Joined the comrades in their protest ‘gainst the bosses new demand.
When sickness takes a hold of you and health is not the best. The hospital can be the spot to help get well and rest. But sterile walls can get you down – a dreary sort of place.
First in the morning Nursed into warning When dread sets the red sleepless eyes. Another day dawning And it’s beaten the yawning
I am that old and dusty book which sits forgotten on the shelf. A spine so soft and deeply cracked, the frail remains of sounder self.
By Dane Fuller4 years ago in Poets
I used to drive to work and feel my soul be healed. The seasons changed, a range of colours were revealed. The brown ground Autumn sown and Winter’s greening field.
So she called him at the bar, to enquire if he’d be far Away. He’d said he’d ordered dinner 45 minutes ago. “Yes darl,” he said. “I’m sorry. But there’s no reason to worry
Jack and Jill went up the hill To fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown An accident or slaughter?
