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Featuring four true works of art written by amazing poet, Mr. Henry Farrell, who was chosen as "Poet of the Week" , November 2022, May and June of 2023.


COME NOVEMBER I sing of the winter at hand - - - Of the chilling face of November: I sing of that ever be of England! Of Halloween; and comfort me not, its terror. As I wander under the authority of dark Where with brisk steps, the turn of streets, Some with trees naked of bark With brittle limbs in harmless the wind beats; Yet! be the warbling; speaks my fear - With the sky in cold ghostly sit; For from the thin mist, throng me a silent shadow near, And as it solicitates me, death would lie! but I did sweat it... As of a dream - Partaken of the proof! of one who seem. © HENRY FARRELL


UPON THE LORE OF FATE Loneliness is a lonely road to stroll When there is just one you Faring-dominant the breeze in roll: And as depart the seasons knew! Seems duller the radiant lustre in the eye... Even with stolen glances! the transparent hue in wondrous effulgence, In gentle emotion of the sky! A cherishing, dwell the spirit of ethereal presence: Alack! detain my heart, doubt of love's affection; It beats of hope and fear! As it orchestrates breath of devotion In repeat verses I must bear... Affirmed a life of solitude - - - Hope! awaiting love to shed my sorrow away;

Fear! crushed into a domain of shadowy mood;

O' the many melancholy, my aspect each day While pal-like the folds in submit, bereft of passion - - - Lo' I give way, with faint hope for the end of this lonely desolation © HENRY FARRELL


OF BEARERS MANY - HAUGHTY OF HEART In more life - - -Of more time, The ascension...of onward bring - Beset the heavens with the sun in climb; Here and now! be its very nature of waxing, Steal away! the breadth of spring; And with more its lead in pore, Not less the need! for the radiant lustre of its eye - Entranced to a spirit more Quiet in meaning! fitfully on high, There! upon the desert sand! in whispering cry: With more time; enquire at this point of life! In playful charge my affection; Ever! the spirit entitled Romance...alive And be the intent from the shrine of devotion; Will it be my eyes borne, the fancy image of my passion - With not my depart! Earth's valley miles? With the sun! the most exultingly radiant of all smiles © HENRY FARRELL


WITH NO WANT OF A FEELING There's a gateway to my heart - - - O' stay for me there, in fold Hidden from the collect vision With intentness in told Of the spirit which is entitled Desire: Keep me from its strength of affection; From its mysterious moods, Keep the wife of my bosom! in sweet voice of devotion, That in threatening spree! Is love's passionate tongue; Its treatise of desire! My weary of craves burning and pervading song: There's a gateway to my heart... And make aware its entrance! as a shadow With an alert to depart; not wanting the rivaling To preside, be its malcontent of sorrow: Keep me free of its spirit shining - - - Heartbreak! there's no want of the feeling © HENRY FARRELL

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