Blank pages stretched before me,
threatening in their stark innocence...

On restless feet she wanders
through the garden of her life...

She stands amid the chanting mass
crushed on all sides like a pebble between...

The Grumpy Club
There is a place where I belong...

A tree there stands upon a hill
Which bears such painful scars...

Piled high the boxes reach
to brush against the ceiling...

Failing heart
beats slow and...

The journey continues,
although not for me...

Autumn’s palette
spreads out before me...

Amidst the horror and the noise
as bullets fly and mortars sing...

Why can’t I be a princess?
Said the youngster to his mum...

Deep in its thrall the miser sits and counts,
without a thought for all that passes by his door...