A Foggy Night On An Abandoned Wharf


Be mindful on your midnight stroll near the waterfront cool and dark, an inland fog like a dungeon of mist will leave you barren, desolate, and stark. Be careful where you place your feet, many wharf rats you will meet, they’ll be dragging maggoty fish heads into holes, or doing trapeze acts upon the slimy poles. Be mindful on your wayward walk, it’s easy to slip and fall and drown in the murky dock. ~ Poet Stoker


Frost Woods

Frost Woods

The misty moss-covered forest floor this time of year is scented with mayflowers. The aroma of new life in spring brings joy to my nostrils and softness to my step as I explore the lovely woods of Robert Frost’s poetry. How nice it would be if you were here with me; together we could pick wild flowers and mushrooms, make a smudge fire, fill our bodies with sweet smoke and chew spruce gum while singing songs of lost lovers and figures so forlorn. ~ Poet Stoker