Assam, 1836-1947
In the Queen’s Garden at Hillsborough, fallen petals from the rose plants jumped at me, smelling of nothing but looking pretty. I stole a few, if steal…
When Summer was ending...
Dear friends It’s a locked newsletter so it’s only a handful of you here who wanted to read my poetry. Thank you for that. I have been crazy busy of la…
am I the unhappy one, swallowing the bitter fruits of what I see that they don’t see
Photo: https://medium.com/scribe/vermillion-c3237b7421
Leaving is not difficult But I won't say this To those I love - Fragile little souls looking for Fear in my limbs Quiver in my soul Pain, endless pain …
The golden light coming from the bedroom window breaks on the wall and stays there barely touching the coat rack where more than coats, the silk scarve…
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