Dear friend, I hope this letter finds you well. Often times I find it hard to sit down and write,…
To: Everyone
Dear everyone, I have decided to make this website a writer’s blog. I will continue posting new poems on this…
The Prologue
There’s something in the air, A cinnamon glow, An oaken grove, Whispering, rustling. Can it be, Tales of a season’s…
The Rings in the Oak Wood
Here lies a home with the familiar fade of history worth a thousand days. And in the wind through rusted…
2 years of A.W. Poetry!!!
I know this post is slightly belated, but WOW, I cannot believe this site is already 2 years old. Thank…
Golden Hour
Honey trickles through the oak blinds Rolling mellifluously, dripping on the cotton and leather, Dusting the glass table with golden…
Untitled, 2019
As I lay here breathing, heavy to my ears I hear, the sirens of crickets in the heavy cotton night.…
Midnight mother
Your glistening, glinting, maternal face Looks over a midnight, ghost town Full and bright, Porous and light Dusting the ground…
The Renaissance Woman
I am a Renaissance man, Oh wait, that mustn’t be. I must have different parts to be of that entity.…
Morass
Despair is a pool so vast and deep, Lined with cold clammy clay. And everything it’s reflection kisses, turns to…
