Child

For Dylan Thomas

He passes through different rooms

Each with its own quality of light

He burns small sticks.  

He waddles through glorious muck

His big black boots

turning sideways as they will.

He thinks he has killed time.

On the edge of paradise he throws stones at tins.

And pushes his tongue through a broken smile.

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

I feel that all I can say constructively about this is exactly.

[Circe]

while I'm ignorant of dylan thomas biography.. can't help loving this, every line bleeds of conviction... these words are to be savoured, read passionately.. no one does imagery like this.

[Chris G. Vaillancourt]

So bountifully filled with imagery this piece enthrals more each time it is read.

[WhiteWillow]

A great piece, stirs many mental pictures and emotions. Well done.

[N.A.Truman]

To children, perhaps, time cannot exist until fear does.

Enjoyable read.

[Irfan Bashir Shah]

Your writing is potent.

[paradise]

Nice style very different had nice flowi liked it :)

[Emily Burns]

I very much admire your voice and your style.