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tom-red
Irish
All of the years All of the walks All the countless miles Him looking back To see that I'm still there Or maybe wondering If I needed saving His pack instinct strong He did save me In ways he never knew His stoic bravery inspired His loyalty gave me strength He only wanted my time And now all I want is his I was proud to be the Master Of this complex uncomplicated male Those hours in the park Or on the couch Or jumping around a treat Until one of us took out the squeak I want them back, those hours He never knew he was small Never accepted limitations Even at the end He hoisted his flag defiantly He had come with me everywhere Up mountains, in boats and shops I pulled thorns from his paws He plucked strings in my soul He was a class act And his name rhymes with heart
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Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
His name rhymes with heart
Doing things by half Shouldn't be the worst In fact it isn't half bad Except when it's us Doing things by half May not be the best But it's some way to that If we can settle for less Doing things by half Is alien in your world Half lit is almost dark The lighting must be full Doing things by half Means we live a half life Hemispheres on a map Jet trails drawn in white Doing things by half Suggests that full is best And yet we laugh At suggestions like this Doing things by half Is how we survive It's how we laugh And it's why we cry Doing things by half Is a glass half drained Lipstick on the glass Then a Milanese train Doing things by half Is a hope half gone Gone to your heart Perhaps to return again Doing things by half Like doing things by heart We learn them We love them We never forget
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Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
Half Life
A golden thread connects us Although it seems impossible it could be that long It seems to stretch across continents It joins up the water and land that lie between us Threaded through airports and harbour walls It effortlessly knits up plains and cities A golden thread connects us Although it seems impossible it could be that strong It sketches a random pattern, known only to us Disparate, otherwise unconnected backpages Mississipi, Dallas, Mountain View, Santa Barbra Stoneybatter, Skerries, Paris, Milan A golden thread connects us Although it seems impossible to think for how long It stitches and gathers up time; so when you said "It could be a thousand years or five minutes since we met" I knew we both thought that forever is possible   That everything previous would make sense of our present A golden thread connects us Although it seems impossible to see how it could From a distance I saw you go through revolving doors The golden hair caught my eye, flowing as you walked I was a man trapped, saved only by one fact That a golden thread had snagged on my clothes
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC
A Golden Thread
Looking West, I think I can see you In summer clothes, in sunshine, in light Surroundings that fit and embrace you Yet, hoping your eyes search for mine I can't tell if you are looking Eastward I don't expect you could pray to the East On a globe, which horizon is forward? Which sacrifice will guarantee the yield? And meantime you shimmer on coastlines On sand, and at parties, in bars But I recall you when you were all mine Quietly answering each other's prayers Your love is scaffolding built overnight Surrounding, supporting weathered stone An unexpected artisan, you revitalise You renovate and salvage and own Own me, and this immobile cathedral Impervious rock to skilled test A sanctuary for prayers that come Eastward A place where our love can be blessed
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Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 6:39 PM UTC
Horizon
There have been longer nights; Restless hours, reels of pictures Playing back our hours together; On a loop, with no ending. There have been unbidden thoughts; You entering from the wings; Me, like a funnyman startled By a heckle or misjudged audience. There have been warmer days; When your eyes burned bright And seemed to light up my way; Your laugh setting fire to my heart. There have been colder days; As when we walked on grass; You in borrowed warmth; Repaying me, the proud lender. There have been racking doubts And moments of essential fear; A jet dropping from the sky; A hapless ship of fools. There have been longer nights But I really can’t remember when; Since you left, the dark conspires But the solstice brings your light.
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 5:00 PM UTC
Winter Solstice