Daniel Spencer Poems

There's a beast at the threshold
He hungers for meat
Ten thousand bones lay under his feet
He cannot be poisoned
...

He dipped his hand into the wondrous calm
And produced a silver shell,
Which a stranger received
And pressed to his ear,
...

Sadness as I pass your old, enchanting house,
But would I be nourished, as before,
If you were in?
Old truths have withered, fresh pleasures are scarce,
...

I became aware,
as my eyes met yours,
that whilst you were surrounded
by boundaries of thick glass,
...

As I listen,
Drop by drop,
The rain tells me its story.
My mind is stilled.
...

I can see the water from my window,
deep and dark.
It ripples as I go about my routine.
Some days, I see it bubble and spit and
...