To A Cricket

I'd never wish death upon a soul, Even demons with serrated kiss Could not endure such fractured bliss, But you, my friend, with rubbing wings Are the epitome of their dark stings! Through water torture I'd gladly sit Or iron maidens made to fit. Yet you, my friend, bastardise pain, And each echo devours refrain,...

Visually Short (A haiku by Phen)

Visually short Scenes permeate my morning, Working on no sleep. Poem © Phen Weston