by Mollie Bolt | May 26, 2009 | Poetry
This desert – not swirling sands and sculptured dunes Of storybooks, but stony scrub, the residence Of small and sudden scuttling things – Within this desert is a sweet oasis, Green beyond belief. A garden, tended and watered constantly, Where sun burns...
by Mollie Bolt | May 26, 2009 | Poetry
A soldier dies. Well,that is what they paid him for, And if his life was brief, so what? – he knew the score. I am no advocate of war; but men, it seems Were born to fight and die. What chance have you or I To make them change? Across the world, across the...
