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 Oct 2014 David
Me
So I wear bleeding lilacs on my sleeves -
now what?

It was not me that shot the ghost
of fading hours.

And neither was it you who danced so much,
who lost the cup of violet flowers
and who then left.

So now -
now what?

I wonder;
We shall not fear the breaking ice,
the rumbling surface.

Maybe it's this that will suffice
to mend what had been broken?
Maybe we could just glue those ruins
and blow away the ashes from the ground,
as a token of our love
towards this earth.

Yes, now I know -
this should work out.

Away the cov'ring snow!
Thunder - Come, strike!
Crash open!

Now,
Let's go.
When people read this they should be reminded of something. But in fact I know they are not. And I know I am a poetry freak - so behold, kids... it is all okay.
Some day yes some day, as the music weeps

She had the dream, edges of a rose
waiting for the question she suppose
too young to understand the wicked wind that belongs
still he sings to her, the love song.....

He had known her  for so long
waiting with a question when she came along
wanting for her lovely soul to belong
to ask the lovely her for her lifelong......

The dream was on fire that fiery night
soaring strides in the park in the worried light
in the silhouettes of the wind
they took the long way to find a friend.....

He was asking her the question again
yes its the dream and a suggestion it seems
about life, and please just listen he screams
just say yes, he has a question and when.....

Some day yes... the music still weeps
and waits for her lovely soul to keep....*

Debbie Brooks 2014
 Oct 2014 David
Cíara McNamara
2 -
 Oct 2014 David
Cíara McNamara
2 -
I watch a moment more -
the hands they turn, and rise.
I know not - what to expect
With each exhaling breath.

The hands, again they move -
not together, but with each other.
A syncronised harmony -
both moving, changing blissfully.

I'd look away, but I daren't not
I stare amazed, awaiting -
trying to catch or freeze I know not -
The tick-tock of that enormous clock.
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