Empire of Whimsy

Gothic institution, high on island hill. Oceans of ink. A sky entirely made of quill. The Warden’s keys jangle alarmingly in the lock....

A little while ago I wrote a poem called 31 after a day taking modelling for internationally celebrated photographer, Phil Kneen. The phot...

That intake of breath Of fresh Air. Bringer of new ideas Unfair -ly mined By a dozen minds Or more. These spores of though...