Sunday, 21 September 2025

1 New Poem

 A Child’s Toys

First you gave me the
rocking horse to practice,

Then the compass to
find my way.

Two in such balance
I could barely sustain

Illusions of meaning
in façade,

Illusion of peace on
shipwrecked shore
in tent-filled underpass,

Illusions of the serene
when all things washed out

Faded paint in high sun.