Steve Woodward Biography

Oh snatched away in beauty’s bloom
The fallen hero of my upstairs room
Who had travelled the world
Yet saw no sights
...

I dredge with incommunicable folly
Through the silt which fills my mind
Across to the bountiful shores of a melancholy
Wistful as a soft sea breeze.
...

Oh woe they all cried, let more mourners come
Hush each of the winds and put out the sun
Go now, wear black, retire early to bed
There is no hope now that romance is dead.
...

Waiting for you; I am a brand new pencil
Neat in a box amongst my brothers
Standing diligent to attention;
Picked from the pack and at your mercy,
...

If I could know her every motion,
The absences in between
Where it may so cruelly take forever
To seep between the cracks,
...