27 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

08/27 Sevilla, Portugal

I was up early to the sound of the alarm aside my bed.  Still half asleep my brain jumped into gear once it realized where I was.  I was full of renewed energy and headed south down the empty street where Ann had disappeared.  I sat behind a cup of coffee inside a small café across the street from where she had vanished.  I had knocked on one of the doors and then another but with no response.  (more…)

27 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 048 A small badly lit room

A small badly lit room with no mirror holds a tapestry of where my secrets lie
Hell has followed my imagination and galloped into my sickness
Where its waves whisper terrible truths as they eat away at me and keep me from escaping

27 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 049 In the depths of our garden

In the depths of our garden, love roots its way into those precious memories, dreams
one has forgotten dreamt
there upon life with a smile, it crept in unnoticed

How love grows …
I am yours and yours shall be, love, through all eternity

We arose to the morning dew, made diamonds by the sun magnifying the memories, of life
and there aligned to the vision
as the sands of life run, we’ve become one

How love grows …
I am yours and yours shall be, love, through all eternity