poems

When We Were Free

We trod the cobbled courts around Karluv Most Played the fiddle in Piazza San Marco Gambled with rain in Gamla Stan Bought books in Berlin Awaited the spring in Amsterdam And then it stopped. In seven days the world ended Packed up… Read More ›

Happy People

Happy people don’t write poetry, they say Words and thoughts don’t burden their days © 2020 Erna Grcic 

On a Cloudy Day

The sun appeared out of nowhere and cast its golden breathacross the furniture. It stroked the pillows,ruffled the plant’s rowdy leaves and upset the candle. I blinked a couple of timesand it was goneas if it had never been there… Read More ›

The Sea

Close your eyes and listen to the sea As it crashes against the shore Rocking the bones of long-lost ships Grinding mighty rocksInto smithereens © 2020 Erna Grcic, Beneath the Surface Comment: This is the first stanza of the poem… Read More ›

Socially Distant

Tedium and isolation have arrived holding hands and pirouetting along the balcony railing on a rainy afternoon. © 2020 Erna Grcic 

Beneath the Surface

I’m glad to announce that my long-awaited poetry collection Beneath the Surface is finally out and ready for pre-orders on Amazon! Having said that, let’s talk a bit about the collection itself. from ‘Stopping Time’ We’re waiting by the roadside.What… Read More ›

To the Surface

Hello my lovelies, it’s been a couple of months since I started my self-imposed hiatus and, I’m glad to say, it’s been quite a creative and productive period for me. Good news and announcements first: the project that I started… Read More ›

In the Darkest Depths

Be not afraid of whirlpools, of strong winds, and murky waves. Fear the creature that dwells in the darkness deep, the ice-shackled Kraken, that threatens to surface and your soul to keep. With your every stroke in the cheery water… Read More ›

Once Upon a Time

Ghosts hover within these walls Unseen footsteps patter in the halls Lions couchant guard the gates Marble pain on their sealed fates The stain on the carpet – blood or wine? Remember when we used this room to dine? Abandoned… Read More ›

The Hurricane

In the eye of the hurricane, of clamour and clangour, of deafening din, we stare into the distance and try to find a focus,a convergence, for our ruthless ruminations to make the internal voices, shouts, screams, and whispers less potent… Read More ›