C.L.LLOYD

the poetry.

where the grief sinks heavy

  • WHERE THE GRIEF SINKS HEAVY.

    Meet me in the courtyard, as the clocks steel hand strikes the midnight hour, when the nights deep blue kisses the leaves of trees – and dew clings, like a creeping thing.  Find me in that familiar place, where shadows dance across landscapes, leaving tawny spots atop the hills, swaying between silver-tipped daffodils.  You know, the secret place – where the grief Read more