Rembrandt-The Return of the Prodigal Son Picture courtesy of http://www.distinctivemasterpieces.com I hear your criticisms
and all you say
I hear your words
in which you slay
I sit on by
quiet as a mouse
You like a Bee, as you sting
your words in another’s house
I look at you
and who your are
How far away you live
travel a distance by car
You ran away long ago
only back once in a while
Then off you go home
with barely a hello or a smile
You’re just a fly-by
night
Who visits to show
your face, to do right
But one day you’ll come
no more
No reason to visit
this place, no what for
No reason to alleviate
your guilt
Or be the one
who leads, you think, still
Remember that next
time you come
Remember this
prodigal son
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
View all posts by Darren Greenidge
Caliburnus Rises 