Lothlorien Poetry Journal

  From my emerging collection: Psychopomp     In the dye of the black     Angry deep, slow and ancient to the keep   Where men sleep...

  WHEN THEY LOVE US NOT     When the ones we want to love us   leave no doubt they’ve left us behind,   should we loll around, scave...

Ode to Brigid Women of light, tend to the fire, the ever-rising flames of Brigid, blacksmith and poet, who heals us, warms our weary ...

      The marvel of the freedom: In patches   The vault opens itself at dawn. The calyx of an Arctic alpine forget-me-not reopen...

What Remains   'Please will you come and see my war crime?'   Of everything, this is what finally broke me - the request...

  Moonscapes & Melancholy by Richard M. Ankers   There is no landscape, our world smothered by night. Only those obsidian undulati...