OUR SON (Barry Tebb Poems)
Quarter to three: I wake again at the hour of his birth Thirty years ago and now he paces corridors ...
Quarter to three: I wake again at the hour of his birth Thirty years ago and now he paces corridors ...
for Brenda Williams The dawn cracked with ice, with fire grumbling in the grate, With ire in the homes we ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories