The Wingchair Traveller

Season`s Greetings by Susan E. Harris-Gamard As the earthy night stretches deep and black And the clangy sound of engines and...

Hands of Clay Labyrinthine hollows swirling freely through unformed clay Slithering, slipping , moving down And tos...

And I Hear A swaying above. The dank black form of the musty chandelier Gives off its empty, flickering brilliance. ...

photo credit: billphelps.com I am back.  What else does one write after being away from their poor, neglected  blog for almost 6 months...

The party pad is holding things together well. Richard sees me and screams, “The sculptor is here! Woot woot!”  He calls me “the sculptor” e...

come and go with me out of me  and along the bank of catch and release searching the searchlight amongst this swallow of sound in fact and ...

Bright lights from the villa lie reaching across the hills like tendrils as I approach from below. Voices heard, a rippling of laughter...