Can I Help You?

‘Can I help you?’ the salesperson asks… ‘Yes, I think you can!’ you reply. ‘Well, what can I do for you?’ ‘Well, it’s kinda’ hard to put into words,’ you say as it is so obvious you are holding the floodgate of tears

La Différence!

la difference, that’s how it goes… (women are the glue which bonds societies’ fabric) We all work those jobs we do best and it does show a face familiar which has always been

Sitting Under the Poetry Dome

Poor unhappy soul, (you haven’t found where it is hiding, but be reassured, it’s there, because they found him and gave him a good hiding…) whatever gets you through your weary day… Is OK, for you somehow made your way home staggering as

strands of moonlight, steven humphreys, poet, poetry, poem, prose

Strands of Moonlight

I have a project for you. I want you to go out to the next full moon, and take a look. Stand there surrounding yourself in strands of moonlight. When? Some calendars have gone queer these days and don’t show the partial and full moon… Let them all be queer. I mean, the

Crusty Old Uncle Fred

Blossoms fill the air in spring. I don’t know the name of the tree but, I like its fragrance even though at times, it makes me sneeze. When spring comes around next year, I know I can depend upon that sweet aroma returning. That smell is in my mind, which is strange things from the past…