With hands outstretched, soft like butter to the touch and with all the tender love and care only a woman knows how to give, there is nothing quite like Death’s embrace.
Author: Pam Swanborough
writing and other occupations
I Was a Plastic Bag
Everything breaks eventually, except plastic. I was a plastic bag...
Personals Ad: Artist Seeks World
Me: Sad-eyed dreamer with battered heart, eternal/ optimist given to bouts of despair, idealist/...
No Feather Bed
Angel of The North, you stand awake.
No-one is Watching
Unharness your two beasts/ Ambition and Anxiety/ from your chariot/...
The Vampires
The vampires came with money,/ Golden handshakes, glossy smarm,/ And we threw the gates wide open/...
Climate Change
Venice is flooding. / Its streets are already rivers/ How can Venice flood?...
Red Geiger
The Geiger-counter glowed red/ ‘Danger! Danger!’ were the words that it bled/...
Nuclear exodus
On airport floors the wearied sprawled, at check-in desks long queues formed...
The Sound Of Growth
We touch the ground - we don’t own land/ If your heart’s free - your head won’t be/ ...
