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And she was tired, but not of me.
She’s such a sleeping beauty,
That I could stare at her all day.
Look at her, God! Just look at her
This day can’t get any better.
Isn’t she pretty, like some deity?

She blushes, she smiles,
She looks at me, from miles
All this while, looking at her
I realize already, that I’m into her
She doesn’t speak a lot,
Her eyes do it, taking her part
Whenever I say I love you,
Her lips go wide
From smile to grin,
Grin to blush
If this isn’t worth falling for,
What is?

She lifts me up, when I’m down,
She thrashes me, when I’m dumb
She cooks for me, when I want it the most
She showers love on me, when I need her the most.

And then she hugs me tight,
All worries were out of my sight.
That’s when I know, I’m hers,
No worries, Coz she already knows, she’s mine

~ PG
.                  Self, Poet, Trait.

  On an extremely wet day in Mallow,

County Cork, Ireland, when the eaves

  were dropping, a conversation was

     overheard between a paranoid

       schizophrenic to his altered

            ego in a cracked mirror.


  " [I] can’t live with myself because

  [YOU] gave me a split personality.

              Now, I don’t know if

          I am a [HE], [SHE], or [IT].

So, while [WE] are pluralised by [YOU],

    [THEY] are all talking about us “.
don’t worry guy
I’m not writing to you
I’m writing to him
the person you’ll never be
so you…
you’re free
Fly and fall
Full of light and colour,
Just like my emotions.
Except one leaf,
Firmly attached to a lonely branch,
Fresh and green,
Like love,
The pearl of the soul.
After Covid people have changed somehow,
They get irritated,
Are less friendly,
And get tired easily,
The liveliness, fun and togetherness in a family is somewhat lacking.
You, moon

Pulling my tides

To flowing movement when i strive to be still

You, young moon

Agitating roots to
Push soil

When all oak requires is acorn rest

Yes you,

Mistress movement

Cycling countryside to mock silly cities falling down.

Water water everyone unable
Or drown thanks to you,
 Oct 2022 Blue Butterflies
The owl outside my window
Doesn’t hoot
He screams
Which sends me running
No, tiptoeing
Through dark rooms
Into your doorframe
I lean

Father is snoring loudly
I shan’t wake him
Instead I silently
Crouch then crawl
To your side
Sweet mother

Your sleeping breath
I observe
Then my finger
Softly taps
Your slumbering arm
As you
Wake gently
To shield me
From harm

Your kind eyes open
And quietly
Slip out of bed
To lovingly take my hand
As we walk
Through dark places
Resting my head
Upon the pillow
You hush the owl’s bellow

Curled up by my side
To cradle and comfort
Panic retreats as
You usher in
Peaceful sleeps

This selfless act
Is repeated
For years

Through every dark room
You guided me
And erased my fear
I see this now
And eternally
Feel you near
As a child I would wake almost every night full of fear /// My mother would soothe me back to sleep every…single…time
 Oct 2022 Blue Butterflies
Don’t make those eyes
I’d sooner carve
Out my own
Than let yours
Meet mine

Don’t smile
I’d rather
Than curl
My lips

Don’t think
I didn’t notice
Your hips
As I drift away

Don’t think of me
Like I think of you
It’s all tarnished now
There’s nothing
I can do
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