Abie’s Poetry

The Endemic Panic Gone, the mad rush After a hasty peck. All the time in the world – But where’s now the kiss? Gone, the bondage To drudgery and haste. Yet, like oxen unyoked, Immobile we stand. No more the

Agia Napa, Cyprus For EP In dawn’s waxing light, I saunter, A lone beachcomber, searching For smooth shingles and pebbles, At the water’s very edge, The odd wave lapping my feet. The brushed, virgin sand, Yet untrodden by throngs; The

From under the warm, clumpy quilt, I’m awoken before dawn’s first blush, By birds’ twittering; thunder growling; The wind wailing through the pine trees; And flashes of lightning over the hill top. But, under it all, the stillness and serenity