John Daniel Thieme

“. . .though the names of lovers are forgotten in time, their nameswritten across the sky as ogham threads are tracedbetween the stars”

“. . .in your light, had I learned to love, here in your beauty, could I speakknowing of this space close withinas the breath held inside a garden rose, there— there is no time.”

“beneath the stars that drift; she sighed and said "Every tale of a love can only be a tale of ghosts that linger in these spaces wecan never hold,"—as the wind gave echo”

“. . .our whispered words, faintly in the darkness, dissolvingwithin the trees—then, fleeting words of consolationwould not suffice if feigned, and flippant wordsconfessed reluctance—our wordswere meaningless uttered on the wind. . .”

“I wish to go down under the waters—the cool, crystalline waters that I knew, where allthat is, here, existing, isis only to be lost within the susurrationsand the rumours of water and the evening starwe wait for...”