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Jul 2017 · 487
david mungoshi Jul 2017
Sometimes you stand aside
and weep over things not done
And sometimes you wait and wail in the wings
wondering where the rain beat you
Hi folks! Just looking in
Nov 2016 · 1.6k
melancholic look back
david mungoshi Nov 2016
the sun was just rising
i too was just rising
yet my spirit was falling
my bags were packed
and my mind was set
on a course that lacked
the verve of earlier days
one nostalgic look back
and i really was done
the terrain had changed
and so i hit the trail
raising only a whiff of dust
Dear Friends on hellopoetry, I've had a super time here and everyone has just been so superb, but i'm beginning to feel the blues of diminishing returns. Allow me to quote from Leonard Cohen's last letter to the love of his life, Marianne, "See you down the road."
Nov 2016 · 632
moment of clarity
david mungoshi Nov 2016
my grandmother looked me in the eye
wisdom softly glistening in her eyes
she said to me that sometimes it pays
upon occasional hazy misty days
to gently put some things on ice
till another day beckons as it always does
and in that one intense moment
made magical by her comment
knowledge hit me in the face; and
the twisted knots in my vision cleared
Nov 2016 · 925
over me hover
david mungoshi Nov 2016
my sweet never-cloying love
you of the softness of a dove
over me hover with a promise
of things that dissipate like a trance
flap your wings in a cryptic dance
be the butterfly that's elusive; ever
in silent song,  light as a breeze
whose depths of emotion
no maestros can ever capture
unless they be of the motion of creation
with motion station and station motion
Nov 2016 · 809
beginning to forget
david mungoshi Nov 2016
i'm beginning to forget
the sound of water on pebbles
the cry of a hyena in the dark
life and death juxtaposed
a chilling antithesis

i'm beginning to forget
the thrill of a loving touch
the pain of a stricken heart
harmony and rupture adjacent
a terrible paradox

i'm beginning to forget
the joy you stirred in me
the deep sadness you induced
serene days and chilly blasts
a reminder of bitter-sweet things
Nov 2016 · 513
no longer a prisoner
david mungoshi Nov 2016
when your child starts speaking like a sage
you're no longer in a fast prisoner's cage
your deed's done; you can be frivolous once again
and spend time on the useless things that tickle you
Nov 2016 · 708
french salads and you
david mungoshi Nov 2016
i carry this enigmatic picture of you
and the smile that ignited my heart
on musical french salad mornings
when love and food were such a mix
as no artist can ever truly capture
Nov 2016 · 504
morning has come
david mungoshi Nov 2016
morning has come
but there's no calm
as the old sun rises
there are no surprises
it's yet another day
and if i may
i will make it big
in the hearts of others
Nov 2016 · 493
missing mother
david mungoshi Nov 2016
curiosity has always killed the cat
and we've always had that little pat
from mother's ever-loving hand
to stop us jumping into the abyss
but oh, the emptiness that must come
when we flee the warm padded nest
to where nobody can do us any good
oh mother, dry the tears of an old man!
Nov 2016 · 358
life and time
david mungoshi Nov 2016
like a soft fluffy mist
adrift a morning blue
hues of time nestle true
to the dictates of  life
and i begin to understand
the evanescence of all things
but therein lies the sweetness
so you were never meant to last
or i to be on an endless fast
life is a frantic little dance
that we do each in turn
and sometimes together
as the songs in our hearts
propel us to a zenith
in the dreams we reach out for
Nov 2016 · 573
solemn pact
david mungoshi Nov 2016
this ancient brew
with a taste so true
makes me see stars
where stand the scars
of long-forgotten battles
this old exotic brew
brings back the memories
my heart grew fonder
in high moments so tender
your star shone bright
in warm tropical skies blue
and i knew i'd never ever rue
the day we made a solemn pact
to last us through the ages
Nov 2016 · 380
those were the days
david mungoshi Nov 2016
those were the days
i felt for mother
again in another daze
and he wouldn’t bother

those were the days
father went no further
Days of his  thick haze
though tough as leather
Those were the days

i remember you mother
you taught me to smile
and go the extra mile
for the sake of joy in love
and life was what it was
those were the days

i remember you father
in a lazy armchair
in shorts and glasses
sometimes in a lather
yet the epic story man
those were the days
Nov 2016 · 644
mystic things
david mungoshi Nov 2016
at the break of day we saw a frog
sailing the current into thick fog
at the break of day there was peace
and for certain we had a new lease
of life oozing out of the open petals

in the soft radiance of the  evening
after we had been drinking a sunset
life did a maestro's dance before me
and i knew then that it was my fate
to seek mystic things in perpetuity

in the dead of the live long night
i knew things lay there out of sight
making us tremble in anticipation
of sweet joys or bitter annihilation
on this journey that's a gift divine
david mungoshi Nov 2016
oh this cold winter sun
how it kills the day's fun
this cold winter sun
makes them dream of a tan
and crave for a ton
of warm Savannah gladness
the antidote to waning fondness
in the hearts of the jet-setting few
members of  a sad rich crew
with spoilt-brat dreams
Before venturing outside on my morning walk in Bromsgrove UK yesterday  November 1, 2016, I neglected dressing warmly because with the sky clear, more or less, and the sun shining, I thought I would be alright only to discover just how cold it actually was! I could only respond as I did through this poem. The weather back home in Africa is less deceptive. Just beginning to experience winter in the northern hemisphere and beginning to appreciate the weather of my homeland.
Nov 2016 · 434
the things i've done
david mungoshi Nov 2016
how they indict me betimes
the things i've done
how they exalt me on occasion
the things i've done
Nov 2016 · 304
call me blessed
david mungoshi Nov 2016
call me blessed when indeed nothing really clicks
call me blessed when the lucky ones excel; and
i wallow in the sallowness of shrunken prospects
call me blessed when glory is posthumous death
Nov 2016 · 390
tramp under a broken branch
david mungoshi Nov 2016
the bruised ***** under the sighing branch
how he wept the bitter tears of one brutalized
by life's never-ending fixation with fleeting moments
how the futility of it all hit him where it hurt most
was the story of his life and that of many others like him
the trapped ***** under the maze of a broken branch
convulsed under the unspoken knowledge in his amnesia
Nov 2016 · 543
free to wander
david mungoshi Nov 2016
in truth i am stunned
by just how rich i am
even when i'm shunned
by the mighty of the world
with their gloss and their trappings
these newly-arrived fakes
imprisoned in artificial finery
while i'm free to wander
as i will, in the endlessness of wonder:
they give humanity a bad name
Nov 2016 · 386
the wonder of it all
david mungoshi Nov 2016
the wonder of it all
  is that i stand tall
after my bitter fall

the wonder of it all
is how life still calls
and how it enthralls
me still, in the throes
of an endless quest
to quench my thirst
and be still in it all

the wonder of it all
is the call of a dove
from nature's trove
of effortless wonders
that science can't replicate
and we never can fabricate

the wonder of it all is what we learn at last
that none of us can withstand what must be
that we've to buzz and burn our energy like a bee
before the sweetness of ages can come again
in that beautiful hallelujah moment of fulfillment
Oct 2016 · 697
if i
david mungoshi Oct 2016
if i were a rummaging vagabond
with nowhere to lay my head
would you give me a second look?

if i wore tatters and was raving mad
talking to  demented shadows
would you hold me and lull my fears?

if i were a perpetual concern case
getting thin on my mad dreams
would you follow my fancies with me?

if i sang you a song i picked up
on the highways of my wanderings
would you smile sweetly and take me home?

if inexorable time began to weaken my resolve
would you laugh and say i told you so
or would you see the end that beckons to us all?
Oct 2016 · 665
life's paradoxes
david mungoshi Oct 2016
in that moment of perfect poise
there was hardly  any real choice
but to articulate this joyful noise
from the brow of a  mystical rise
sown in my fertile heart by pain
carried on the wings of cold rain
as my frayed ego wept; and out
of a stout bravado with no clout
launched dead end-time messages
and called time on euphoric illusions
friends i tell you, life keeps its secrets
and angels and phantoms their comments
let us then open our hearts to muffled joy
the prize for those who bore the price of delusion
Oct 2016 · 494
david mungoshi Oct 2016
i was walking on air
feeling like a blessed heir
before she punctured my ego
and freed me from my vertigo

life is a strange journey
much like a tourney
it leads you to where you began
in that dim light where creation beckons
david mungoshi Oct 2016
had read some of his poems
but never stood at his statue
a local boy become a famous lad
revered crafter of a shropshire lad
now here i was with my digital camera
knowing full well it was no chimera
being here at the shrine of a wordsmith
whose professorial gaze is wide and sweeping
i tell you straight that for joy my heart is weeping
you will ask if i am a friend of narcissus
that mythical lad with conceit like a colossus
for after i've gone click! click!
i see my image embedded in the shiny black marble
and i feel like a visiting poet embraced by another in stone
yesterday i was walking along the main street of bromsgrove with my wife, my grandson and our son-in-law. with a plastic mug of hot chocolate in my hand i somehow ended at the base of the statue of  a.e. housman, professor and poet. I went click, click, click with my camera and when later i looked at the pictures, there i was, like a familiar etched inside the photograph of a view of housman's statue. a capital experience!
Oct 2016 · 362
the wish i planted
david mungoshi Oct 2016
how i tried planting
a wish in your heart
and how stunted t'was
though in me rampant

the days rode the leering sun
that at me winked in weird fun
the nights sat upon the sly moon
and there was never  a real boon

when i planted a wish in your dry heart
lo and behold it sighed and lay dead
though inside me the dream that never was
writhed, turned and wailed in a silent dirge

now the terrain that once was your hard heart
is forlorn, windswept and filled with galleys
how time has vindicated the aching of sore wants
and how the pangs we suffer live on even as we wane
Oct 2016 · 1.1k
i see the birds have flown
david mungoshi Oct 2016
the twigs are still and quiet
            indeed the birds have flown
            soon it'll all be ice and snow
         and shrubbery in a white gown
     as everywhere traffic seeks ease of flow
           i see that the birds have flown
      and that no more grass has grown
no more daffodils, lupine and hollyhocks
or the bluebirds, larks, thrushes and nightingales
     that jimmie rodgers waxed lyrical about

     one swallow i see in acrobatic show
        of frantic rhythm to beat the snow
        but futile its extravaganza ever is
       for one swallow does not make a summer
      i see that indeed the birds have flown
being recently arrived on a visit to the british isles i was struck by the absence of bird song at the break of day. then it struck me that the birds had probably migrated to warmer climates. i couldn't resist the temptation to do a parody of the words of Charles the second on arriving at a belligerent parliament: i see my birds have flown. the pun is deliberate
Oct 2016 · 675
david mungoshi Oct 2016
The clock on my tablet has struck twelve
And I wonder what it is I can easily delve
Into on a night as wondrous as this one is

Back home the witching hour has come
And I am sixty-seven and feeling calm
Here in the queen’s realm I still am sixty-six

I watch the cloudy skies for a sign, any sign
Dawn is a reticent traveller and by design
In the home country we’d be up and about

What a lark when finally it’s daybreak here
And there’s none of the fabled English bird songs
To serenade my day, just the sulky silence and drizzle

Who needs contrivance when family is here and warm?
My day is made when finally at table we sit and are merry
Counting my blessings and dreaming of something spectacular.
I turned 67 on 30 September. At midnight Zimbabwe time it was still 29th September in the UK. So I couldn't but help reflect upon this phenomenon, having just arrived in Bromsgrove to visit my daughter and her family.
Sep 2016 · 826
big apple pantomime
david mungoshi Sep 2016
the leaves on the tree
dance and are free
i walk and shake
the dust off my feet
and look up the sky'
like one able to greet
a world that's agog
the pantomime unfolds
the lurid drama lies bare
'neath our staring minds
the big apple is not so big
this was always an illusion
even in those days of plenty
when surfeit  was a stranger
and none took more than they needed
Sep 2016 · 657
a thirst to quench
david mungoshi Sep 2016
from the depths of my being
i shout that i shall indeed be king
and forever banish banality
in a move that has finality

the things in my unending quest
are a constant reminder of the test
they tell me my fires to quench
until there's none of that stench

from perched vantage points
that even holy saints would envy
i see this walking and talking bevy
of lovelies selling sweet taunts

and i know it's time to quench a thirst
its time not to demure and come first
that itch that has troubled me long
now makes me feel that i belong

to the bemused new brigade of seekers
the ones who are thinkers but not speakers
they that from afar smell the deep oasis
whenever there's a deepening crisis

so dear life incarnate, dear essence of breath
stand me now and forever in good stead
give me the strained juice that cools my tongue
and thus help me in perpetuity to quench a thirst
Sep 2016 · 672
on the peak
david mungoshi Sep 2016
i strained my way up the hill *****
pondering dead dreams and lost hope
the walking song urged me on to the peak
where i stood breathless and couldn't speak
stunned by our penchant for self-annihilation
and descent  into abysses of gloom and oblivion
images of a brave new world- how tormenting!
Notes from my morning walks
Sep 2016 · 594
any piece of the earth
david mungoshi Sep 2016
give me, o do give me
any piece of the earth
let me show you
there's no dearth
of wisps of smoke
and peals of laughter
they quote with gleaming eyes
and are courted everywhere
there's no scarcity of shared experiences
in any measure or hue
and that's always true
i should be garlanded
i should be serenaded
wherever my fancy takes me
for in very truth is say to you
any which way in the world
is a corner of my room
thus see me weep in travail
but always to no avail
for the elite of the world
who would speak for us
though we have mouths to speak and things to say
are forever seeking ways to tell us we're different
but give me, o give me, any piece of this earth
and i shall be home in harmony with the breath of life
never again to be alienated by false councils
my heart will sprout into luxuriant shrubs
that dance each break of day
to songs of the universe
i yearn to be a citizen of the world, roaming free
Sep 2016 · 617
these things can happen
david mungoshi Sep 2016
you can go through life
never really know strife
and walk along all alone
till the shadow in the distance
begins to look like an omen
these things can happen

you can stand in the aisle
and imagine a happy isle
where frowns are banished
tasks are in time finished
and time leaps across the void
these things can happen

you moan your anguish
until you can distinguish
the real thing from fakes
charlatans and pretenders
your heart does a dance
because you're no dunce

these things can happen
david mungoshi Sep 2016
Little ant, so small and insignificant
Yet in numbers up an elephant’s snout
How easily you make him indisposed
Lesson to learn: strength in numbers
Maxim to remember: unity of purpose

Oh termite, thou destroyer of civilizations!
How mighty when surreptitiously you creep in
Such ingenious civil engineering feats everywhere
Orderly highways with neither jams nor congestion
And tall imposing castles kissing the air proudly
Result: new architectures plagiarizing your prototype!

And you wasp of constricted waist and mean toxin
You make no attempt to hide or disguise your dwelling
Yours is a house built upon a hill for all to see and tremble
They say when a man has no obvious protection keep away
Lest you trigger subtle forces that mesmerize and pulverize you
Lesson from this: commandos are modern day human wasps

Everybody owes the bee everything, from sweetness to health
The bees a-buzzing speak of persistence and how it breaks barriers
In the end you listen because the message is ceaseless and urgent
And oh sweet bee of the hot sting shot from your posterior
No cordon bleu chef anywhere can ever approximate your finesse
Your formula and patent are hedged with natural mystery
Lesson to learn: the bitter and the sweet in judicious mixture!

Now little man recently so puffed-up and conceited and ever so inadequate
Hear ye this and know it well lest you stumble and fall into dark precipices
You’re nothing and you’ve created nothing; there’s a prototype of everything
In nature’s wonder store of huge surprises and unassuming wisdom
Lesson from all this: one day the other world will rise up and assert it itself
So steer your course differently and beware of those who bide their time
Grim in their purpose and determined in their unshakable resolve
There's just so much we still don't know.
Sep 2016 · 756
revelation time
david mungoshi Sep 2016
when there's nothing more to say
you listen for the resigned sigh
watch for the slump in the shoulder
and search the face for a sign, any sign

when there's nothing else to say you begin to pack
and hope against hope there might be a relenting
though you know it's all cast in stone here and now
it's been a long time coming and you've always known

when everything's been done and the crack's too wide to close
the words of the sages dance before your weepy eyes
wantonly jeering at your foolish heart that would be moved
by so macabre a dance of dead hopes and twitching dreams

when you've had your last glance of one once so dear
you grit your teeth, carry your rucksack and take the open road
to a place that's always been your unspoken destination
in truth arrival is a time for fallacies and myths to dissipate
i find that parting is always so traumatic - any parting. you always wonder if you've done all you could have done.
Sep 2016 · 2.9k
My grandson at the Dentist's
david mungoshi Sep 2016
With eyes bled red by oozing tears
His sallow all-pleading visage wan
Weeps my grandson at the dentist's
Convinced the man is a dealer in pain
The little boy inside of me weeps too
What can I do, what must be must be
Each boy must find out for himself
what we imagine is often worse than the reality, but a small boy must discover that for himself. I think that such an experience is a much wider metaphor than may appear to be the case.
david mungoshi Sep 2016
Pain for you never again this side of life
All is now calm and easy and so sail on
True to this life's eternal golden rules
Rich in truth and kind you'll for ever be
If sturdy as can be, these rules you breathe
Cherishing morsel and largess in measure alike
Knowing that times move towards a zenith
I thought to try this idea that Kikidinho is so good at. How does this grab you Kiki mate? I hope that some Patrick out there finds this relevant.
Aug 2016 · 972
upon the dancing sky
david mungoshi Aug 2016
lead me to your lofty bower
like a pilgrim in penance
quieten my creaking doubts
and  to sleep lull my thoughts

touch me softly in that moment
of inner sorrow and torment
whisper to me of freshly-ground memories
and amaze me with wondrous lucid visions

walk me to the end of experience
and hear me as i wail no more
about broken dreams and sad joys
in lyrical moments of wild abandon

make my heart grind like one toiling
and dim my eyes with painful realization
the world belongs to the chosen few
who grasp eternal paradoxes on cue

and when the distant bugle is sounded
i shall be among the confused many
failing to read the signs of the times
emblazoned upon the dancing sky for all to see
Nearly two years from the day of writing in 2016, I pay my homage to this poem again, and ask its indulgence as I make smoother the rough edges. The date today is May 28 in the year 2018. I hope you guys still like it.
Aug 2016 · 722
The Way Things Are
david mungoshi Aug 2016
You're one of those people
With mind's eye like an eagle's
You say all the right things
But never ever feel them
Life is much the poorer for it
The art of dissembling
Is your mark of distinction
And I who sees everything
And feels everything
With a bleeding heart
Sorely miss the days of old
When a yes was a yes
And a no was a NO
Even without a shake of the head
How I wish diplomacy and all artifice
Had never become   human tools
The way things are between us
We are heading for a big crash
Aug 2016 · 602
and night falls...
david mungoshi Aug 2016
sun sinks beyond the hills
the shadows begin to dance
a thin shapeless eerie dance
and night falls upon us all

big red ball in the early east
and the wily sun also rises
another prickly reminder
that night falls upon us all

now the sounds of fear fill our hearts
we wonder what the new day brings
borne upon a dawn etched by the gods
of timeless mystery and bewilderment

cuddled together in a warm embrace
we drive the frost and the froth of life
from our sore and penitent hearts, and
night falls upon our worst nightmares
Aug 2016 · 366
fallen story
david mungoshi Aug 2016
Owl eater
Fowl thinker
Low growl
High howl
Hades story
Which way
You going
david mungoshi Aug 2016
soon forgotten in the mazes of old time
like a lacklustre story heard in passing
when the pain is brought on by the frowns
no honeyed words or feigned equilibrium
can erase that empty feeling inside
and your day will be done in their annals
Aug 2016 · 604
in my dreams
david mungoshi Aug 2016
in my dreams i'm in a car
and i'm driven like a star
the crowds yell their adulation
elated i soak in the adoration

in my dreams nothing is impossible
and everything is just so possible
the hapless ones whine their malice
undeterred i rinse the silver chalice

in my dreams the prize of my longing
is the open door through which i'm going
though my goal is a starry distance away
i trudge on and do not mind the drudgery

in my dreams i cling to the elusive sweetness
of a myriad near-misses and close shaves
and time like a dream keeps on flying,flying
into ethereal worlds unknown in fancy blue

in my dreams  the sun's always shining bright
the clouds are always fleeing life's warm breath
and i'm like the messenger that never arrived
with the good news of life for all who labour

in my dreams the sound track is melancholic
it is played in low dignified notes that mourn
a past that has become the miserable present
and cry about a future that is temperamental

in my dreams everyone has a dream come true
and everyone weeps till they can weep no more
the silence is spiced with occasional sighs
and deep words that never die ride the wind
Jul 2016 · 469
cultivated wishes
david mungoshi Jul 2016
reclining upon the wing of a whim
i recall those days of sweet leisure
when you were uniquely a treasure
and i was fully ablaze with pleasure
the sky turned a vivid scarlet
   the wind whispered hot secrets
   and the occasional lull in turmoil
   was like a fresh breath of life

resting upon cultivated wishes
i recall those days of dew on the grass
and new blooms opening up to the blue day
  so once again comrade and friend, join me in a reverie
spawned on one of our wild safaris in deepest africa
Jul 2016 · 867
anxious mother's lament
david mungoshi Jul 2016
what ails you my son
what ails you
my sweet bundle of joy
come to me upon a misty morning
washing away the tears of years of longing
with a cry so melodious
you smoothed the corrugations on my brow
and sleeplessness was  banished forever
what ails you my son
you brought back laughter into our lives
see how proud you've made your papa
the bounce is back in his gait
so what ails you my son
don't glisten like morning dew only to disappear
stay a while and make our days
Jul 2016 · 350
a natural wonder
david mungoshi Jul 2016
coming up for air he gasped
like the first creature at creation
now that the scales were off his eyes
the world was a natural wonder
Jul 2016 · 568
bees on my aloes
david mungoshi Jul 2016
my garden is alive
the aloes are in bloom
spelling no doom
   but only life in abundance
they proclaim a magnificence
in vibrant, flowing, flaming red glory
the bees on my aloes have always known
about the natural goodness in this hardy species
we are mere followers
there is a profusion of red on the rockery adjacent to my french window and the bees are busy collecting nectar
david mungoshi Jul 2016
despite cloudy weather and stormy seas
despite the malice of my  hidden enemies
the sneers and chuckles of silent assassins
lurking in the shadows of all my mishaps
my nascent spirit came shining through
timid and shy at first like a slice of moon
then in a huge roar mightier than the lion's
warmer than the sun breaking through cloud
and there i was, one bright and happy day
in triumph even when they willed it not
This is a poem for everyone struggling against the odds
david mungoshi Jul 2016
it's one of those nasty nippy days
but i like my town nevertheless
  Even with its infamous cold
numbing my senses and cramping my jaw
there's an unfailing antidote to all that:
a wood fire with smoke going up the chimney
and warmth radiating around the room
add a steaming cup of tea to that and a voice on the radio
or a glass of opaque beer brewed the indigenous way
seven days of fermentation like the story of creation
the dog has its tail between its legs and cries speechless tears
baby lizards dart to spots where the sun sometimes rests
and i sit in my armchair dreaming about warmer days
but happy that there is a contrast that enhances the pleasure
thus we must always be grateful for this little thing, this treasure
the smile from a loved one that melts all the ice
makes the sun come shining through
and makes us whole again
Jul 2016 · 476
the names we use
david mungoshi Jul 2016
in this age of modern wonders
a new outflow of ideas thunders
and lo and behold before too long
we assume new names *****-nilly:
@david and so on and so forth
a name for my facebook timeline
where i tag such strange people as
motherless, yesterdaychild, rude,
sweetness, jawbreaker and so on
i have other names in numerical form
my mobile number, my atm card number,
passport, national identity card, social security
and medaid number; and when i pass on
i shall be an anonymous number on a grave
no-one will remember me or any of my antics
and i shall dissipate in the profusion of identities
Jul 2016 · 766
nobody knows why you weep
david mungoshi Jul 2016
puffed up eyelids
chapped dry lips
and sombre face
drooping shoulders
and sagged countenance
but honest truth be told
though you weep like a willow
nobody knows why you weep
your tears are shreds of red
your arms hang by your sides
like a flag furled and abandoned
you are a perpetual mourner
adrift on the rough seas that life brews
and though you weep in torrents
in truth nobody knows why you weep
I am fascinated by the metaphor of the weeping willow tree
Jun 2016 · 335
tramp conversation
david mungoshi Jun 2016
outside the makeshift camp
in uncommonly high spirits
sat an ageless greasy *****
with a song for the drunken
said the enigmatic *****
'can i get one if i want one?'
'you can get two if you want to'
the ***** with the huge eyes
waxed lyrical and melancholic
and, shaggy heads together
in wry musing and pondering
they asked what it was, really, that
floored them so very permanently

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