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Experimental Poem
The days are short This is a good opening line although rather predictable I might write God in my Hell All is Well Because of the rhyme Or I could call this poem Blind Z OR USE SIX DOTS IN BATCHES OF THREE … …
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An Art Deco Sugar Shaker Rests on a Wooden Table
Over three generations have passed Since you were first created You may have lost your reflection And you are corroded from within But your curves are ice sharp And you still retain your original beauty The wooden table is quite new And mass produced It is pleasant to look at and functional But it […]
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Digging Deep Canary
Digging Deep Canary The poor canary one of the so called sentinel species are no longer used to alert miners to the presence of carbon monoxide It appears that our feathered friends breathing rate its size and metabolism caused it to die quickly if carbon monoxide was present thus giving miners an early warning of […]
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Orange Trees
Although you have been stripped of your leaves Your dignity remains You refresh each frost During those exiled months By remembering the gentle dews of summer You have changed from orange To a comfortable brown The pale blue sky Hides your exhaustion When the long nights of winter end I will clothe you […]
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Father Henry Clarke (A Memento)
Your book was passed to me today By your executor Your dedication is long dry The ink pale with age But my memories of you are fresh And really that is all that matters
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The Last Day of October
Swarms of red rose ladybirds Hang heavily in the autumn air We are sharing a drink on our summer seat And should not be there at all As September has passed And October is spent Save for a day But what a day This day of golden avenues With its warm breezes and gentle light […]
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Travelling North
You are travelling to Telford Give my regards to the Iron Bridge I am travelling to Oxford With Wren Wren Leipzig A goldfinch with a phenomenal intellect If you send me a couple of selfies From your hotel room I will release the goldfinch And instruct it to travel in a northerly direction […]
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San Marino Junction
Each of the leaves Broken by its own weight Floats away from the mother tree
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A War Poem Found in a Bible
Turning Into the Void From a high vantage we watched the battle progress We watched as young men ignorant of delicate flowers Were torn apart by the confusion of war Each man slaughtered had experienced a childhood Whether idyllic or not this was of no matter It was their […]
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Self Portrait of a Fading Ghost
I went down with the Clipperton in November 1875 Nobody survived the wreck on those wretched sands But I was not accepted into Heaven As I thought I might be Due to my cowardice on that awful night I was commanded to haunt the many streets Of the Walmer Strand From that day onwards without […]