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Why I Write Haikus?
Writing haikus has been a simple yet complex process because I am aware that the English form of haikus is very different to what constitutes as a haiku in Japan. This is because sentence structures and syllables are quite different in these two cultures. Yet, the universal essence of nature as the topic of an Read more
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An Analysis of ‘The Silver Swan’ by Anon
The silver swan, who living had no note, When death approached unlocked her silent throat, Leaning her breast against the reedy shore, Thus sung her first and last, and sung no more: Farewell all joys, O death come close mine eyes, More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise. Read more
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Forty Four: Of Who We Are By Hannah Williams
What do you say to me? When you’re done selling broken dreams? Whilst tears fall down my cheeks like bitter streams. In my search to redeem what could not be fixed. Instead of the tepid truth, You make promises on rainbows that didn’t form after the rain. Your deception got me dancing on clouds. It Read more
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Prose/Short Story: Red Soil (Micro Fiction)
The footpath leading to the lake where she walked barefoot with the red soil discolouring her bronze skin. As the dust rises, she hopes to emerge as its daughter waiting to be uplifted by the wind. She looked back at her footsteps imprinted in the sand wondering if her ancestors had embossed their footprints too. Read more
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Prose/Short Story: The Telling Gaze Of A Caged Bird
Solitary is bitter to starving souls searching for freedom but freedom is what I have always dreamt of. A world where I can sing with the wind and join the chorus of flocking birds singing in the dawn. A life far greater than being a caged bird. I am having the serenity to accept the Read more
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Sunday Stanza: Poem Forty Three: Imagine By Hannah Williams
Imagine a garden An elusive garden. You walk past the willow tree It reflects your silenced state. Yet you do not cry nor smile. You did that on your first visit. I did both on my second. This is together is our third. The wind knows our names. Yet it dares not trouble. Petals fall Read more
Hannah Williams 