Sallie Howson

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Death Of A Poem

Shot down in its prime.
Shot down
While making daisy chains in the park
For little girls to be daisy queens.


I’m not jealous
But I know what I saw.
It all started last night
At the restaurant,

Breakfast Without You

Breakfast was torture
Without you.
The kettle refused to boil,
The toaster burnt the bread

Kind Of Death

This is no
Sweet “carried off by angels”
At the age of 90
Kind of death.

Dancing In The Rain.

Knock, knock
On the window.
Two fat raindrops
Calling me out.


Elizabeth Vautrain 09 April 2014

This is excellent. I read some of her other poems and was very impressed.

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Jerry Hughes 06 May 2008

This lady is an exceptional writer, a joy to read...

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Nabil Nazmi 05 May 2007

realy nice.i like it.

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