Blog Archives



The courage
To still confront
Ageing, any mirror
With neither shame
Nor puling denial

The courage
Of (s)he always
The true warrior
The one ever
Disdaining weaponry




On dreigh* cold shuddery days
A glim* of daylight, no more
A dim and gloomy mist
Declare myself the faller
The one who falls to the floor

Oh for a more welcome haze
The stately swish of the shore
Bleak nightmare phantoms dismissed
I draw a breath and holler
Not me that falls to the floor

The ground leaps up unbidden
And wallops me in the face


(Scot, dialect.) Tedious; dreary.

(Scot.) A little bit; small portion; scrap.

%d bloggers like this: