till seventy one
Iβm only in my sixties
clinging to the tree
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till seventy one
Iβm only in my sixties
clinging to the tree
Enjoying Life In New Ways
Poetry, Photography, haiku,
the literary asylum
Wherever I lay my pen, that's my home
my humanity in written form
Guitarist / Songwriter
Poetry, Fiction & Photography
New content every Sunday.
Tales from the mouth of a wolf
a collection of words about my average, bog-standard life accompanied by some sub-par illustrations that depict selected moments in said life
Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
π³ππππ πππ! π»πππ ππππππ!
to be worth sharing
Domenic Garisto / LIFE IS NOT A REHERSAL,SO LIVE IT..if you can't be the poet, be the poem..havau22.com
One Poet's Writing Practice
My thousand lines..
Cat Nap Revue 
Reblogged this on richwrapper and commented:
Talk-nice to trees – and crows – they will provide succor or sometimes just warning. How did you get so young? I cudda sworn you’se ninety-seven back in ’68 when first you snared that so-naive young Marine into your ‘lightful lair of poetry, puns, banyan trees and a delightful troll Roger Goss who played a pan pipe between answering the phone in a delightful way whenever we held KayBay’s press offices against the teeming mass(es).