Emillie DeVere Biography

Spring has gone,
Leaving the sweet scent of mayflowers,
And soft perfume of daffodils,
...

She sat there, alone
Tears, dripping from her
Tortured eyes…
Tears of pain and loneliness.
...

Down, down by the brook,
Hear the soft wind mocking at you,
From behind the trees
...

Numbness
I am unable to feel
Unable to think
But I continue to be
...

Fairytales are whispers of long forgotten days

Memories of childhood dreams
...