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Anne Davies Oct 2014
Golden sand tickling your toes
Pebbles gleaming, glistening, slushing
When the tide comes  back  to shore.
Sand dunes hiding wildlife,
Multitudes of migratory birds,
Safely returning every year to
This beautiful, marshy paradise.
Skies so orange, pink and red,
An artists palette of natural art
Greet you at sunrise and sunset.
*****, kippers, cod and plaice
Shrimps, cockles and whelks,
Mushy, minty peas and chips,
The show at the end of the pier.
The lifeboats and their hardy crew
Risking their lives to save others,
When visitors run into trouble
At the mercy of the cold North Sea.
Crumbling coastlines, cliff walks
And nature reserves full of the
Scent of wild garlic and herbs,
Norfolk lavender. Steam engines,
Fishing boats, river boats,
Paddling boats and cycles
Take you on journeys
Around the Broads or
Past the famous Castles.
Tigers and leopards peer
Through the bars of their
Zoo homes by the sea.
Easterly winds that bite your
Fingers as they whistle and
Howl through the City.
Guest houses closed for
The winter as you stroll
The lonely promenades
Breathing in the air.
Queen Bodicea,  Normans,
Vikings and Romans all
Marched through this
Historical  landscape
And yet we remain
Stalwart and strong
Proud of our heritage,
Our roots,  our birthplace
There's only one place
Better than Norfolk,
And that's the
Beautiful Ozarks.
Torn between Norfolk in UK and the Ozarks in Missouri
Anne Davies Oct 2014
Pages rustling in the wind
Splattered with blood
And blackened smoke,
Deposited in the blast
That killed its journalist
Owner as he wrote
The words of war.
Words which echo
Through our hearts
And blow our minds,
With a desperate pain
Of loss, remorse and
Grief at the killings
In the war torn streets.
Little children scurry
With bread tucked under
Their scrawny arms,
Hurrying home to a
Shell shocked Mother
Unable to breast feed
Her crying, starving baby.
The bombs reign down,
The buildings blow up,
The gunfire continues,
And we do nothing
We remain silent
Whilst the world
Looks on in horror.
Hate and rage,
Scream across the TV,
Jump out of the radio,
Boldly marching headlines
Depicting the words of war,
Stand to attention
Silently witnessing,
The words of war
Becoming part of
The war of words.
Tribute to all the Journalists who risk their lives to show us the truth of war.
Anne Davies Oct 2014
There is a silence now that you have gone
Somewhere - who knows where?
A silence of your suffering, your laughter,
Your excitement, your enjoyment of food.
A silence of your telephone calls, our lunches,
Your family get togethers, the Christmas puddings.
A silence of birthday cards, Sunday roasts,
Shopping trips, seaside walks and ice cream.
A silence filled with my children's laughter,
Summer picnic days and your flower garden.
A silence of your dementia voice, muddled
And forgetful in your inhabited, twilight world.
A silence of your tears and requests to go home
To safety and your memories of a past busy life.
A silence now that you are gone which I fill with
The voice you gave us to fight on your behalf,
That speaks with truth and grief and sadness
Screaming for your help, care and support.
There is a silence now that you have gone
It fills the deaf ears of those who won't hear
Your sorrow and our pain, who dismiss your
Diagnosis and replace it with a list of lesser
Tick boxes, low scores and minor symptoms.
A silence that is full of blood transfusions,
Infections, falls and fainting and fevers,
A silence that gave you leukaemia and took
Away your life, your heart and soul and being.
A silence that I promise to break very soon
For your silent voice needs to be loudly heard
So we can all rest in quiet,  everlasting peace
Knowing you're protected by God's 'Continuing Care'

God Bless Auntie Joan x
My battle to get my Aunt 'Continuing Care Funding', she died of terminal leukaemia 3 years ago and I am still fighting the NHS.

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