poem by the stove

Soup, served in Winter,
to capture all the warmth;
a glove for frozen fingers;
a scarf to wrap around –
we found our shelter
in the kitchen.

(145 characters incl. spaces)



Can’t I grab a little
warmth, fresh air & love
simple, sound & innocent?

I’m fed up playing
life across the net
shuttling nightmare in cold

(140 characters incl. spaces)