Poetry
-
This mind turns over All the possibilities, Working hard in vain. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
-
A few words at first, One thing leads to another, In the end a book. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
-
My family tree, I was part of the branch cut from the ties that bind. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
-
Awake I shiver, The arms of sleep call to me, Its lull soothing soft. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
-
We’re oft afraid of What we can’t see in the dark. Sordid shapes shadowed. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
-
There is a monster, Creeping up behind you now; Its name: Memory. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
-
Hi sadness. I need Something to keep you at bay, Wishful thinking eh? Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
-
To smell the high grass ‘neath willow bramble and dew, Over hill ridged view. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
-
The taxman’s at a loss, His figures don’t match when we Pretend that we’re dead. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
-
Wake from fever dream, A hand caresses my cheek, Death has come at last. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
Giuseppe Gillespie Writing 