The First Phase of Growth



I am a victim of my own devising

I am a shooting star

I am a singer who begs revising

I stand with truth and a cracked guitar


So steer the course without a rudder

swim the sea in a ripping tide

If words won’t lift me over Jordan

I’ll beg the porpoise for a ride.


Send me a moon to trace the water

Send me a cat to climb the dawn

Ring the bluebells, mix the mortar

Build a cairn when day is gone.


Welcome, new followers! Thanks for reading! Send me a comment once in while!


Available from Handersen Publishing or

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