Flow

Kenneth Vincent WalkerMay 4, 2019

EnglishPoetry0 min read

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Flow

written by: Kenneth Vincent Walker

Poetry pays me back
In ways that many
Fail to fathom.

Poetry is my world
A "Garden of Eden"
Within a chasm.

Poetry, my life's blood,
The very nucleus of
My protoplasm.

Poetry flows from
Head to toes in a
Microcosm of the

Great Niagara.

About
Latest Posts

Kenneth Vincent Walker

Kenneth Vincent Walker is a "New Formalist" Poet, Spoken Word Artist, Performer and Author of BORDERLINE ABSURD (An Exercise in Rhyme and Reason) published by Poem Sugar Press 2015.

Latest posts by Kenneth Vincent Walker (see all)

Gobekli Tepe - February 24, 2020
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This Rare Gift - November 7, 2019

Gerardine White (mostly called Ger) grew up in wild open country of West Limerick, Ireland. Her country life is represented in her poems and has a strong bearing on her core values and education. She inherited the skill of poetic rhyme from both of her parents and her Grandad – who were all fine poets and storytellers. Her education took place mostly in South West Ireland and the rest of it is gleaned from travel, from life, and from being an avid reader of all kinds of books. In recent years she has returned to poetry writing. This past year seeing her published in four Anthologies from Clarendon House Publications. She sees herself as a Spiritual person, very connected with life in all forms. She is happily married for past 20 years and currently lives in Sussex, UK. She enjoys healthy pursuits of country walks with a nice cuppa tea and chat at the end.

Resurrection by Suzanne Craig-Whytock

On the day that Budgie died, I was young and very sad. He was a pretty bird, always singing in his cage. Sometimes we let him out to fly around, and on that day, the curtains were wide open and he slammed into the glass hard. Momma put him into a shoe box and I cried as we buried him in the back garden among the lilies. The next morning, very early, I snuck out of the house and dug him up with a garden trowel because I wanted to see him one more time. When I took the lid off the shoe box, his eyes were open and his wings fluttered ...