Great was my wonder when my first poem…
Category: poem
It is with gentleness Death’s fingers close…
Between close friends I’ve seen the quick sly glance…
Sometimes it seems that animals…
Sometimes I’m envious of cows…
Three Almond trees have blossomed in the square…
‘Tis women’s way, or so they say…
I’ve donned my erstwhile snow-white coat…
The lady sitting over there…
Five thousand incisions of necklace type…