Another Porch ...A Poetry Blog

We hone, with common skin and bone Life-lessons we are taught And sharpen on time’s silk and stone The ilk that cradles th...

Sometimes we feel the reel of it In nothing but the ‘steal’ of it Across the hill at dusk a bit Or in the still of dawn ...

What, the meaning of this sorrow Where tomorrow wears a veil And the fantasies we borrow Are distorted with travail Wh...

Time’s investment doled in moments Leaves us breathless now and then Holy, holy, like an ocean Rolling from God down to me...