My poetry looks to positively explore human potential, with an emphasis on love, spiritual growth and self awareness. It is very important to me that my work remains as open, accessible and as simply expressed as possible. My influences vary from the great traditional English visionary Romantics of the nineteenth century, through to the distillation of thought and leanness of expression offered by the Japanese haiku tradition, the shining examples of Rilke, Eliot and Gibran – as well as the later technical breakthroughs achieved by leading Scottish concrete poets Ian Hamilton Finlay and Edwin Morgan.

Here are some samples of my previously published work


Splendour sleeps                                              

In the thick,

Still grey skies 

Of a season’s bleakness.


The steady muted glow

Of the sun,

Its sorry circle of gold 


The snow covered,

White-edged portrait 

Of a winter’s afternoon.


Inside the ashes of the fire 

Burn red raw. 


We talk 

And your eyes dance 

In patterns of pleasure

Before me.

From Selected Poetry


“What it would be like

To be infants again.”               


And as we grow older

And more saturated

By experience,

Even the saddest

Among us

Cannot begin to know

Or remember

The quality of life

That was there once

For innocence

To indulge in.


And so here we are,

My love and I,

Just doing our best.


Like sunny morning nudes

We sit together

Scheming happiness.

From Selected Poetry


Those few that matter,                                      

They carry their spirit

Before them,

Like a flame in flower 

Within eyes that share

Knowing sorrows,

That may seek sex

As a solace 

For the suffering in life.


In their own way

They are special, 

They cling to the wild beast

In their heads,

And ride it through

A dull dim

Ordinary man’s world,

Where youth fattens

And desire leaks away.

From Selected Poetry


To kiss the fruit                                            

And caress the flower,

To taste

Without tarnishing

Humble nature’s

Natural dower,

In this sweet pursuit

I shall place

My frail body

Till death’s timely hour,

And do so

With only breath remaining

To wish that amidst

The winds of the world,

It will not shake nor cower

In the face of quiet eternity

From Selected Poetry


Within the golden riot

Of one flat freezing autumn            

Coldness quite suddenly 

Has its own specific final smell,

A smoky meld of musk and damp,

The smell of loss and completion.


Tomorrow will now be made anew, 

Though every step forward 

On the soft first frost of winter

Will seem like an agony of intrusion,

Like walking on sacred relics,

Or broken bone china 

That might crack and spit at you

With its own sense of finish …

Of perfection.

From New Poetry


See how we still seek

Safe harbour                    

From the hollow pain

That seeps into souls,

Lost of joy.


We grasp

At what juices we can

To become part again

Of the very scent

Of some sudden truth,

That can in its intensity

Outlast the seasons,

The moods and the melancholy.


After all,

Even on a sodden autumn day,

The cruel thorn

Of a bedraggled pastel rose

Still has the polished jagged edge

That crimson blood could burst upon.

From New Poetry


My heart seems so fragile                          

Near the edge of joy,

It quivers with a resonance 

Of something not quite understood.

Yes, such ecstasies are mine…


But still too often

Bitter-sweet longings

Can escape from dreams

And persist like pain

To haunt even the calmest of days.


I am sad,

Like the hot dust on the streets,

And the music of fresh fallen leaves

Caught in a sliding summer breeze.

From New Poetry


Every new day

Our childrens’ joy is as fresh as roses,      

Even the birds chatter at dawn.


Tomorrow will be sharp and noisy,

Like the bright spotted splash of wild flowers

That freckle

The shaded tawny look of ancient meadows.


How stubborn life is,

It clings like silver in our souls.

From New Poetry


Oh, to be wise enough                      

To milk the moments

When they come

And store them away

More carefully in my soul.


Another fragile casket of love

Has been spilt and broken,

Sweet liquors

Have trickled away forever.


And so where now

Are the fruits

Of such fine ecstasies?



When I’m tired and empty,

I tear through my head,

Like some mad reaper,

Searching in vain for faces,

Fields, flowers,

Lovers that are no more.

How they still stain my heart.

From Meditations


Out there,

In the fragile shadows

Beyond the self,

Lurks unimaginable power.


Energies that conspire

In the darkness

To offer you

A tantalising glimpse

Of another world:


Possibilities beyond dreams,

The scalding risks

Of magic beyond mortality

That cannot help

But slip through your fingers

As soon as you reach for it’s blessing.


Like the stale perfume

Of a tired romance

The searing light of morning

Asks unwelcome questions,

Fragile hopes soon blistered by daylight.

From Meditations


If there’s an ambition                       

Then it’s to damage dullness.

To cause a tear, a slash,

Some rip in the surface of things.


Not damage for it’s own sake,

But an attempt to sever connections,

To abandon convention, obligation.

To escape pattern.


To reach down within the wound

And grasp something of

The soft visceral truth beneath.


Here, illuminated at last,

Nestles the ruddy glint

Of spiritual certainty.


Sweet moments of passion and healing,

Of sensual release.

From Meditations


Age gathers, colludes.

Cadences fade fitfully,

Seemingly before their time.


But there are echoes still,

Shapes we inherit,

We inhabit, we bequeath.


A life however bravely spent,

Will always be jagged, incomplete,

Never far away

From being enveloped in darkness.


Some may say,

Especially those who’ve known joy in life,

That this is not right.


I tell you clearly they are wrong.


So, just as a dancer

Might spin for you an exact pirouette

And release themselves in the perfect burst,

A lingering silhouette of energy,

Be content to love,

To dazzle in the light,

If only for moments…


And then be gone,

With gladness in your heart,

Before the creeping shadows

Claim too much your sadness at leaving.

From Meditations


Marks are made.


Despite ourselves

We etch away,

We leave behind.


A few might even dare

To place something

Proudly on the landscape,

Just for its own sake,

Or so that afterwards

They might be spoken of

By strangers.


But, either way,

It matters not.

For when our souls

Are open

Connections occur.


And perhaps

There is a clue here,

A hint

Of something more fluid,

More oceanic.

A fugue state

That makes more sense

Of all this?


Our pattern, our purpose,

Our struggle to be serene…

From Meditations


Graced with the chance to be here,

Even if only fleetingly,

Embrace whatever comes your way

And, in so doing,

However enchanting

Any treasures you uncover

Might be,

Their loss should never be your concern.


In this matter

Make your heart your queen

And follow her as faithfully

And bravely as you are able.


Just as swelling fruit

Hurries towards its own sweetness,

Shine whilst you can,

Without fear.


For nothing is as inevitable

As it seems here.


No, not even the fissures

Of loss and decay

We are oft led to expect

In this temporal world.


For whilst we fuss and fudge

The lines we are given,

Above, below and all around us,

Lingers the energy of countless others

Who already know for sure

That, just as it was long, long ago,

When they first found themselves


So it is for them, again and again…


And now with only a dark empty hollow,

A feeble space of earth left in between.


Such is true joy’s absolute certainty,

Its slow lit fuse that burns holes

In the shabby shroud of death forever.

From Angel Voices


The day is done

And no one is immune,

It’s true.


That sense of a voyage

Slips seamlessly past,

For there is a finite beginning

And end to everything.


And yet a sense of connection,

A bejewelled purpose too,

Like the child

Whose way ahead

You’ve already lit,

Or the lover you’ve yet to meet.


Many such moments

Come and go, as they must,

Melting away

Into the space we are given.


But what endures for me

Is a persistent resonance,

Some heady wish

For access again

To a sense of wonder

In the stream of things,

That, this time round,

It might just be possible

To keep in my heart

A little longer.


So tarry with me awhile

And we will see

What we can do

To tenderly explore

Beneath the frail shell

Of all we’ve since become.


Trusting that, maybe within

Such smoothly sculpted casing,

And still delicately enclosed,

Might just lie the silky lustre

Of some lavish

And joyful communion,

Waiting for its chance

To grip and catch the light again.

From Angel Voices


Lost puppies

We are no longer,

That’s for sure…

Since all that’s been and gone

And the very essence of you,

Left behind in so many hearts,

Is never forgotten.


And, on a day such as this,

When your world is calm,

Full of warm smiles,

And your soul is at last

Let off its string,

One cannot help but sense,

For certain,

That all the love inside you

Comes from the best of those

You’ve known and loved

And those who came

And went before you too…


Sweet darlings! Sweet youth!

All our hope and dreams

Derive from just that.


So, show me the wonder

Of all you’ve seen so far,

Stretch the day to its limit,

And let us have no guilt

Left to waste for dreaming still.

From Angel Voices


A need for connection,


Drawn in, enchanted by

Resonances with nature

And the kinship of others,

With beauty

Forged by heart’s endeavour.


And so should we

Always aspire to polish

Such precious attainment

With love.


A blessed friction of sorts

That allows us

To birth our night into day

And bathe it clean,

So that beloved things can glow

Together in a litter of light.

From Angel Voices 


Life collects,

Pools around you.


It paints its highlights.


Nothing there

You can destroy

Or begin again.


Calm in aquamarine beauty,

Barely a hint

Of surf’s snowy trim.


Today the sea is out

But will come again.


For the moment,

On the beach,

My love and I,

Naked and blissful

As can be.


In the soft,

Sun baked sand


Between our toes.


Sense how

Even the smooth stones


With stories of their own

In the shuddering

Light of day.

From Angel Voices


Needing love,

We squeeze what we can

From a fluid landscape

Of life and light,

Gifted to us

But for a moment

In the scheme of things.


Hope glistens,

Daring us to do

So much more.


And, at our best,

When least distracted

By the petty cares

Of the day,

We hunger for a constant,

To find a flow,

A warm, healing current

We can swim within.


One soul’s journey

In search of a tipping point.

The possibility of honour,

The chance of grace in our lives.

From Angel Voices


Here I am,

As if to confound myself,

Just as I ever was.


Seemingly little more

Than an excited dervish,

Forever chasing shadows,

Knowing that,

Come what may,

Beauty will continue

To throng around me,

Till I am no more.


What was it I never told you?

For isn’t it true that,

Without fear,

We are capable of anything…


The smell of fresh rain,

Like gunpowder on the lawn,

Embellishes the day,

As the summer rips on.


And we can but wonder

As, flawless,

Early morning moisture,

Stranded on a leaf,

Glints in the sunshine.


The world watches

And waits for us, it seems…

As if to suggest tis best

To have an unquiet response

To the nature of things.


So drink deep of your sorrows,

Drink deep of your joy

And then love

And live restlessly

For as long

As the charged ache

In your spirit allows.

From Threads


Despite what we imagine

In our sometime pain,


Either by aching anticipation

Or subsequent loss,

Lovers are never found by chance.


So tell that to the trees,

Who’ve seen it all

Countless times before.

And can only stand apart

In the meadow of life

And wait

For us to dream again.


Like some broken hearted waif

On a grimy street,

For whom only the predatory

Are likely to stop.


For not even fool’s comfort

Can cling on there

To inhibit notes of caution

That would otherwise

Trim our wings,

Spoil any such dividend.


And so much more too!


Seems like

We always had this coming…


Our needs, till met,

Like rising sap,

Like clotted pollen in the air.


As it always is

In beauty’s sweet surrender,

Desire is the irresistible pull

That draws us steadily

Onto one another

And then fruits.


You were in me all along.

From Threads


There is an intricate chain

At work here,

From one fleeting moment

Of grace to another.

A myriad of links,

Far too long and interlaced,

Even within one

Tentative soul’s journey,

To fathom.


And so the challenge

Is a simple one,

To keep bringing light to bear.

And to do so

With all the good faith

One can muster,

Till some chinks appear.


A fateful knock at your door

That will surely come again.

And the choice then

Will always be a stark one,

Between surrender of sorts,

Or recourse to hollow dreams,

Long since eclipsed by time.


Our conjoined instincts,

Like sexual fire,

Come and go.

But that’s the way of things.


Forever in the background

A persistent, elemental energy

That didn’t ask to be here,

Just is…


And when it bursts forth

Tis a wonderfully furious thing.

From Threads


As we toil and spin,

Pause and gather yourself

In the stillness,

Whenever you are able.


Trusting that,

Time after time,

This might bind ever deeper

In your soul

And, one day,

Come gloriously to bear.


Otherwise how vain

A deceit

Is such constant distraction,

That leaks into everything

To spoil our chances.


And, in so doing,

Look how we fashion instead

A raw and unnecessarily restless

Sadness in our hearts.


For it is what it is,

This life,

No more and no less…

And everyday

It shines upon us

With a patience

That is inestimable.


So take heart from this

And simply surrender in moments,

As best you can.


Even if only in modest ripples

That gently caress

The shore of your dreams.

From Threads


Always stay loyal

To that which feeds your soul,

Knowing, as mortal entities,

We can never go any higher

Than when we nourish

A little of God in ourselves.


Like a thin seam

Of silvered mineral within

There’s a hint of divinity here,

Some mystical suffused essence

That stays charged,

As if in the flow

Of an endless crystal stream,

Till our own sparking current fails…


This being so,

As our own life’s energies

Leak steadily away,

Every step we take

Is interlaced with goodness,

But that we knew it.


For deep, deep down

In the very wellhead of life,

Far beyond melancholy and despair,

Where real sweetness dwells,

There is an ever abundant

Reservoir of light

To be drawn upon by angels.


Fuel for a gathering readiness

That looks to ensure

We will be more than content,

When the time comes,

To simply surrender all we are.


And, in doing so,

Give sap,

Some shape, some form

To the many blossoms still to come.

From Threads


Whenever you can conjure

The stillness to notice,

There is

A sense of the ancient

Hanging in the air.


A lingering spiritual fragrance,

Full of knowing,

That dresses

Contemporary journeys

Like ours.


And always set against

Such a broad tapestry,

Long woven too

With telling details

That confirm who we are,

Albeit still as raw

And naive as any infant.


All the more so

When stood, toe to toe,

With the luminosity

Of days gone by.

And embarking,

As best we can,

On the benevolent


Of one thin slice

Of a chosen life,

However glorious,

Or loaded with pathos

This eventually becomes.


No chance of tragedy

Here though!

For we truly are,

As we come to recognise

Ourselves to be,

Mere receptacles.


Gilded chariots

That our spirits ride out,

But for a hallowed moment in time.


The merest splash of presence

In the serried halls of wonder.

From Threads


Treasured energies

Can evaporate like steam,

When hot meets cold…


And so, my hands

Are gathered together

Before me,

As if to hold

What is precious within.


To make of myself

Sweet sanctuary,


What inspired quivers


Still seem

Too beautiful to die.


Slip away though

They must.


But for nought,

Have I whispered

To my past,

Can I begin again?


For such is the illusion.


Nothing is ever

Ours to keep,

Rather only to glory in

For a while,


By brilliant residues,

Till blest again.


This then our lot…


As, step by step,

Faith accrues.

From Threads


Disturbed as we are

By greed and vanity,

All the while

There is so much else

Here for us,

An abundance of triggers

Into both light and depth.


Far beyond

The gentle balm of faith

And the comfort that brings,

A huge and unimaginable love,

An iridescent vignette

Of sheer beauty.


And, slowly but surely,

We are being pulled in,

As one episode

Follows another

On our transit.

Gradually becoming wedded

To something,

The purple light of divinity

That we call God.


As, step by step,

In trying to understand love,

We become fearless.


Bold fires

Within us now

The run of many waters

Cannot quench.

From Threads


The heavy weight of history

Directly abuts

The promise of tomorrow.


Come what may though,

Even spears, as they will…

I cannot help

But be laid bare.


For mine’s a quest,

As yet unabandoned,

To be pure.


And all the while,

Being led that way too,

While the rarest of promises

Still cavort in my soul.


Just as it was at

The very beginning,

Whether pierced by joy

Or fear,

My own wounds to date

Focal points of emotion,

Now glowing red raw again.


Enduring transmissions,

Without which

One would surely have to

Start over again,

Without any narrative of hope,

Nor glimpse of heaven

Or twist of pain.

From Threads


If you listen carefully

There’s a constant purr

In your soul,

With ambitions

Of provoking a response,

Akin to a mother

Forever nudging

Her fledglings forward

Into the light.


And this is reassuring,

As it’s meant to be,

Putting the lie

To insignificance

Being the essence

Of our existence,

When the truth

Is quite to the contrary.


All this a gift

Easy to accept,

When such benevolence

Holds so steady,

Just waiting to be noticed.


Like the soft sigh

Of a tender young tree

In the gentlest

Of summer breezes.

From Pranic Poetry


A sheen, a glow,

A charisma of sorts.


All we’ve come to know,

To touch the essence of,

Leaving behind a memory,

A presence of its own.



That eventually settle,

Coming to rest somehow

In the very fabric

Of who we are.


I see this so clearly

In the eyes of others.


Every moment

That has gone before

Bringing us here,

My friend.


And yet with so much

Still left to absorb.


Joy and pain

Spread so evenly

Along time’s heavy arch.

From Pranic Poetry


To live a little

You have to die a little,

So says the angel’s

Enigmatic smile.


Never was the need

For any anvil of angst

Upon which

To crack open

The coded chronicles

Of such a pointed

Lifetime dilemma.


Till then, limited

By such dominant


That fears the end so.


And such

Are all our hopes,

Freer now to flower

Brighter still

When no longer clad thus.


Every true passion

Shared since

Speaking so clearly to this,

The resolute onward journey

Of our soul.

From Pranic Poetry


We are all prophets

Of our own existence

Are we not?


And come what may,

Tis always

Such noble ambition

To leave telling traces

Of ourselves

Wherever we can.


Thus do all our lives


An enduring tapestry

Of pointed moments,

Albeit seeded with loss,

The ache of which will pass

Whilst such sweet emotion



See how potently

That narrative runs on!


And to guide us on our way,

Amidst the endless sway

Of needs and desire,

Delicate patterns made,

Filigrees of real meaning.


The absolute truth

Of raw emotions

Etched on our heart,

Left behind,


As pathways to tomorrow.

From Pranic Poetry


An old view

Seen anew.



In morning perfection,

The illusion


Improves everything,

When fervour’s a resource

Used all too sparingly

And there’s

So much wonder

Out there

To even ruffle the surface of.


How often

Do we turn away though?

Timid, as we are.

And without such sparks

Time can pass by,

Like an empty whisper,

Meaningless and negligent.


Till, all at once,

There you have it,

Pulsing within you,

The day of days!


Whatever else

Might come your way,

This you will always know.


Never rewarded thus

Unless you sing so.

From Pranic Poetry


In a world

That is far from certain,

This is for all lovers

Still to set forth,

Or imagining

They’ve yet to arrive.


This fitful journey

Of ours

No sideshow,

Albeit part

Of an ingenious conceit

That draws us tenderly

Towards the light,

Where chances

Can be so sweet

And every joyous release

Cannot help

But seed another.


So here it is!

And there

It ever was too,

Oh, but we knew it then.


Such sublime mapping,

The code of tomorrow

Already built into

All our yesterdays.

From Pranic Poetry




  1. Geraldine Williams

    I think your website is excellently presented, with pictures and poetry combination very suitable for style you are trying to portray. I wish you well Scott and continued success in your writing.

    Regards G.J.Williams

    • Nun (B. Mckay)

      We did some poetry in English and I think every one did really well. I hope you all had as much fun as I did reading this. It’s really fun.

    • It seems you and I write about the mind. I enjoyed all your poems and related to the varied themes, from gloom and doom to joy and optimism. Great lines. A pleasure to read.

    • Very Very Deep… As It has to be.

  2. Your post Writing is really well written and insightful. Glad I found your website, warm regards!

  3. louise manjaji

    I want to say that your poems indicate a keen sense of
    awareness of self and surrounding and speaks so gently to the reader
    and inspires trust.

  4. Marika O’Baire Kark

    Your website is beautiful. I enjoyed reading your poetry available here and will make comments.

    Thank you, Scott for your beautiful work that definitely inspires me!

  5. Mahnaz Mohafez

    God bless you, Scott! Your poems are more than great.

  6. Milan Schmotzer

    How nice, Scott,

    I feel that it is your true feeling: “I am looking to speak to your soul”

  7. Claire Crossland

    Such marvellous writing. Scott Hastie is truly extraordinary!

  8. Ron Isaacson

    Hi Scott,

    I’m Harper, curator of http://www.re-romance.com I’ve visited your site and enjoyed what I saw and read. I’m looking for quotes from writers like you who are passionate about their craft, wordsmiths who have a love affair with the written word and explore their passion.

  9. Georgia Ann Banks-Martin

    Wonderful work. I love your webpage.

  10. Barbara Braun Koob

    Thank you Scott Hastie! You are quite a poet and I enjoyed visiting your beautiful site.

  11. Your poetry hit something inside me few things can reach. Brutal Truth and Nature have a way of doing that. Bravo and thank you, Artist. Beautiful.

  12. Yara Stein

    “Coldness quite suddenly

    Has its own specific and final smell,” … Marvellous!

  13. Katherine T. Owen

    Lovely. And also intriguing…..

  14. Tiffany Hastie

    Beautiful images and moving words, thank you for sharing your talent and inspiration.

  15. Curtis Kenpo Bear

    Awesome my friend.

  16. This is some very authentic, earthy poetry. I like it a lot!

    Sylvie riverscribbles.wordpress.com

  17. Carolyn Sames

    Hi Scott Hope the New Year is treating you well and it inspires you to do more of your beautiful writing!

  18. Very sensitive creativity full of pathos, pain and ambivalent with ecstasy…. Scott, There is profoundness in your work. Please keep up the good work!

  19. This is absolutely amazing! Someone who is very close to nature and can easily interpret all subtle things in it; with delicacy and style, emotional care and finest understanding with his clean carefree heart.
    All the best Scott!

  20. Your heart and soul are full with colorful, beautiful words. Like a garden being tended with love. You choose just the right ones and arrange them into a boquet that all can enjoy. Your arrangement leaves a lasting fregrance lingering in my soul.

  21. Jon Mukand

    I enjoyed your pastoral writings, which have a soothing effect.

  22. Scott, I most admire the intermingling of contemporary and classic. You are quite unparalleled there. You are very modern and edgy but have so beautifully tempered and refined it with your blissful eloquence and undaunting honesty. It makes for a very unique and interesting voice.
    Well done again and again!!

  23. Lynn Mottram

    I love the photograph of the trees and your poetry too. In fact I think it is a marvellous site.

  24. Sayed Rohani

    I enjoyed your gallery and your poems. They all reflect good taste, good feelings. Mindful people like you, I am sure, will contribute meaningful things to the world.

  25. Daniel Harding

    Good day Scott, This is Daniel and I just wanted to let you know that I love where you coming from, even more I love where you’re going with it, you’re writing is wonderful within itself… I will be reading more, as my time allows.

  26. Mac McGovern

    Just wanted to say your poetry is superb. I would love to write a recommendation of how much I like your poetry and appreciate the opportunity to experience your work. It would be an honor to support your work.

  27. Aria Ligi

    Hi Scott,

    I was able to peruse your site and it looks lovely. Are the photos ones you took? I do not want to assume, but in any event, they are beautiful. I also read some of your pieces and found them interesting and very accessible.

  28. Nivedita Yohana

    Dear Scott It would be lovely to see you in person one day and talk to you. You are an amazing person with such intensity and depth. I am sure your poetry works wonders on your readers. In spite of all the pressure, to produce such beautiful poetry is itself a task. Shows remarkable capacity for tranquility. In Indian philosophy we often put emphasis on detachment, as in American transcendentalism of Emerson and Thoreau. For any creative endeavor it is important “to be in the world but not of it”. Not many achieve it but you absolutely educe this virtue of age old wisdom.

    I am working as an Assistant Professor of English Literature at a College in Mysore and working on my Thesis “Postmodernist Narratives in the Poetry of George Bowering and Frank Davy”. I have already written a dissertation on Canadian-Jewish poet A.M. Klein.

    Just being in the present gives us solace and solitude. It reminds me of Keats’s words on negative capability “when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason” Your poems gives me enormous inspiration and in fact act as a catharsis to unshackle me. You are awesome and awe-inspiring.

  29. Aine MacAodha

    Thank you, your work is very beautiful and inspiring.

  30. Stephanie Payne McBride

    Thank you for sharing your beautiful website and poetry. Your poetry speaks to my heart, as I am deepening spiritually and reaching within to do the work that I feel I need to do.

    I look forward to reading more of your work and commenting.


  31. Kimberly Hart

    Thank you for the inspiration!

  32. These poems are lovely and have a sense of meter, (which is the dance of life) and quality. It is important to make art and at the same time have meaning. Scott’s poetry (and photographs as well) do both these things. They are a joy to read. I mean this sincerely since so much of what I read these days is fake poetry (no structure at all). I look forward to reading more.

  33. T.J. Sally

    ‘THE GIFT’
    for Scott Hastie
    by T.J. Sally 9/4/13

    You have been a spirit
    Which has blown across
    The vast divide
    So flawlessly often
    Your words have Gifted
    Soothed, gave joy
    Tears cried.

  34. Ashok Aditya

    Its Great Mr Scott
    Your words are inspiring…
    I love them really

  35. Priyanka Sharma

    I like your poems. They are absolutely great! No doubt about it. I visit your website quite a few times every week.

  36. Each piece i study is just like a journey, like am taking a gentle walk across a country side to observe nature and give life to imagination!! Worth the time!

  37. Dominique Moses

    I’ve read some of your writing and just wanted to tell you that you’re truly inspiring 🙂 I’ve had a thing for poetry for as long as I can remember, and now that i’m growing spiritually and finding “truth” poetry I am just so happy! lol

  38. Some lovely poetry here. I like your similes and word usage. Some of the poems flow beautifully, like a waterfall splashing into a calm lake. Awesome!!

  39. Bridget Cameron

    I love your poetry and photographs! You have a deep and enquiring mind, and I like that!

  40. Kevin Heaton

    I am very impressed with your fine work! You have a unique, trademark style that only true poets possess. I like it very much, and find that it bestows a calming effect. I suspect you have a true calling in this area, and you are very capably fulfilling it!

  41. It’s not a wonder why you have such a following;your work is beautiful. I especially like the earthy nature of your poems. Spectacular!

  42. loved the reality of the Autumn day… i’ll not look at a rose in the same way

  43. Munia Khan

    Acrostic poem for Scott:

    “Soulful creator of verse
    Constant dreamer
    Of eternal bliss
    Treasured heart
    To heal this world!”

  44. Pari Zarei

    I’m really happy and lucky to be friend with a adorable writer like you

  45. Lissadell House

    Beautiful verse, keep it up

  46. Right on Scott. Really like the poetry.

  47. Lisa James Brewington

    I love your work I’m so glad and grateful
    to know you Scott.

  48. Diane Sizemore

    “Words of The Divine waiting 4 YOU HERE……………………….YOU WILL THINK AND FEEL AS YOU NEVER HAVE BEFORE…”

  49. Anonymous

    Scott’s poems are so lovely and inspiring!

  50. Judith Ann Williams

    I will be sure to set aside time to read some of your poems tomorrow. After a quick glance I see that your poems are truly beautiful! Thank you,

  51. Ann Jones

    Beautiful poems and website! Thank you

  52. Heather Mirassou

    Your poetry is inspiring and your website stunning.

  53. Danvas Kesega

    Your website is great…

  54. Annette Martini

    Your photos are wonderful which you have taken travelling the world. I enjoyed your poetry also! Thank you for sharing!!

  55. Shrish Hardas

    Wow!Your poems are simple yet deep in their meaning.

  56. Your writing brought me to tears. Yes, I am a ‘feeler’ ha ha as most of us poets are yet something about your words, your essence not only captures my heart but leaves me pondering questions I am not sure what of. Thank you for sharing your words with the world, you truly inspire people around the world while leaving them with a sense of peace within.

    Again, thank you for sharing pieces of your spirit with the world.

  57. Don MacIver

    This literary space has become a treasured sanctuary for me Scott. I cherish your thought processeses, exploration and discovery of and through life. Such a tender, knowing voice you breath into your work.

    Were the lines not quite sufficient to fully engage (what??), the expressions here about your work from so many ardent readers tells the story, their story of what your words do for them individually, and collectively. Marvelous.

  58. Powerful imagery and insight. Your work reads with a refreshing ease, and genuinely tugs at my heart strings. I’m inspired, I’ll take a look at tons more of your work tomorrow.

  59. Your poems offer something that has become too rare in poetry – the earnest urge to feel and converse, and to share experiences in common. It conveys a passion and accomplishment with language while both attending and departing from tradition. Atop all of that, you are an engaging and convivial ambassador of poetry.

  60. Sam S

    Amazing, dear – Your work is mind blowing

  61. Vinita Agrawal

    Beautiful thoughts in your poetry, Scott! Especially, the line about leaving our best selves in each other…
    Your poems are perfect to read in moments of quietude. They help me to connect my inner dots.

  62. Pushkar Bisht

    I love your poetry because “They have magic and passion. They are full of depth and meaning. They are of high standard. There are some poetry for children, some poetry for young and some poetry for wise men. Your poetry is meant for wise men. Your poetry is not easy to understand, one needs maturity, experience and wisdom to understand your works. That’s why I said, “your poetry attracts wise audience”.

  63. Erin r Lund

    I enjoyed your poetry.

  64. Zahra Rahimnouri

    Scott, you poems are great and amazing I enjoyed a lot, even wrote out some stanzas or lines. Such sweet and smooth emotion!

  65. Sharmishtha Basu

    Your poems have not conquered my heart only, they have conquered the hearts of so many other readers too. They are truly beautiful and fragrant.

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