Ishaisms, Nostalgia, Poetry

The things that could have been…

At sixty-five years of age, with silver-greying hair, She sits on her cozy brown-leathered arm-chair; she closes her eyes and drifts back in time, to ponder over the past, and think, about all the things that aren’t, but could have been…   The pages of the past unfold and there she stands- a God gifted… Continue reading The things that could have been…

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Ishaisms, Poetry

More than words…

How can some moments be defined; how flying birds be pushed to cage; how breathing dreams in song confined, when mortal fetters they have ravaged? Of sunken ships I no more sing, I only sing of birth - waves of sorrow, low tides bring - let me make friends with mirth! Novelty, jubilant and infallible,… Continue reading More than words…