Lothlorien Poetry Journal

  A day of poking around   I’m working on a way to walk very late to report for nothing snacking on a slice of sunrise orange fl...

  Hive   The ukulele, not best for Danny Boy, means unaccompanied, we gravel to begin; our chariot choir sings high and low, thoug...

IN QUEST OF ETERNAL IMAGE Through the canopy of trees I see the moon You said, Mother, when young, moon reflects dream I close my eyes to vi...

  Purgatory   thou shalt not steal or feel or deal from the bottom of the deck (no matter how stacked against you) so help you...