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We’d make corn rings till the day I die

If I could be with you If I could be with you - in a field of fire In the eye of a hurricane I’d chain my heart to a white-picket fence Before I bunker down the grain…

Blueberries and ice-cream

Blue berries and ice-cream What more could I dream Blue berries and ice-cream What more could there be That isn’t immaterial That isn’t material Somebody warm and cool

Women are quarrelsome

Women are quarrelsome Birds, birds of many wings Like magpies, two shades Of many dissatisfied things. A dove - when the stars The stars are shining bright. But a bank of black disparity,

The Glory of Hope

The glory of all mankind Happiness will forever stay!

MISSING

MIA.

In her slow spirals I am now made whole.

I swirl, curl, and then stretch myself out, To twist, then wrestle and wrap all about; Then I twirl, unfurl, to slip and slide after, In long spirals, that cycle, in sensual ardour.

swamp

He told me, with an earnest face, that ones like those are not loyal. He said I know their'e kind, I know them well, they grow rooted deep in the silt.
Cherry

dafties

time loss and speeding up.

The Nightly Harlot

She's never known love. Partially inspired by Les Miserables (my favorite musical of all time).

He Watches Her

Unrequited love

They Show No Mercy

Never let them see you cry They'll know what burns your eyes They're keeping score And love to cheat Whenever they're behind Always know you'll never win Because you play for them
Cherry

Fractured

All cracked up.
Cherry

Whales' Song

“Dark rainbow bliss in the sea”

Every shadow is of the sun

A poem about lights, shadows, and reflections.

Silver Sunrise

This is a very short story about some of the pain that people with psychosis go through. Aching for the day to end, and wishing it would never start.

A Rotten Fable

When she was 5 her dad read her a fairytale story; 'Once there lived a girl called sleeping beauty, she was always asleep. One day she woke up to a prince's kiss and lived happily ever after'

Memories are made of this

I wonder if the world of Jean, the contributor who kindly became my precious guinea pig, would have thought our brave new world of 2013 be a better place to be than her world.
Cherry

POEM: Treasure Buried.

Saving a heart that has turned to stone.

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