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The garden leading to her Edwardian house
Came swiftly off the main road
The front path straight and lengthy
With bobble brick edging in grey stone.

Roses gathered irregularly along the borders
And a privet hedge lined the perimeter
Needing lots of attention in the Summer months
A few small trees and bushes broke up the space.

Every year I would visit my mother's sister ,Betty
Very different from my mother in outlook
As the front door opened the aroma of sweetness
Gathered from the year's cooking apple crop.

And so it would be a weekend of difference
Spread out as the art books lining the walls
A collection of shells, labelled with dates and places
Displayed on a trolley and covered with cellophane,
An old piano,  Boosey and Hawks, on a side wall
And record cabinets containing her favourite music
Everything had its place, still, motionless, peaceful.
He is the sky full of stars
The stars full of dreams
A dream full of hope
A poem I will never finish

   writing
    
      or

   reading

He is the wonder of joy
The joy of life
A life filled with love
A love that will not end

   not today

   not tomorrow

   not ever

He is the music in my heart
The heart in my soul
The soul in my heart
A kindness that grows

   and grows

     and grows

He is everything in a sky full of stars
More than I could have dreamt
More than I could have hoped
A wish that comes true
again and again

   every moment

   of everyday

My lifes greatest privilege
My loves greatest joy
My son
The poem I will never finish
 Feb 2018 Debanjana Saha
Seema
"Your words pinned me like needles,

Now bleeding to death without pain".*

©sim
Only very few people
Truly knew her -
Others never
Took the time.

If they would have been asked
To say something about her,
They wouldn't have been able
To write more than one line!

~ A sad eulogy.

Lady R.F. (C)2018
I do believe that, people's
breaking moments aren't spectacles,
to be watched like carousels in a carnival,
not free for all(s).....like publc seesaws
anyone rides....sees what comes and goes

my folks' words play in my mind, like a spell
"don't let your eyes stay wet too long, they swell,
one day, those tears will make you unconquerable
your fences and walls ultimately become impregnable."

...but.......there's a truth that's unavoidable
there're days when we're not that invincible
::::::::
sometimes, we melt, we flow
hurt by people's deeds, we don't even know
why.....the days, at times, become too cold,
confusing...other times, painfully bold
we break, we droop............we fall
we realize...we can't always be that tall
::::::::
we become...........frangible
just as breakable
just as fragile
as porcelain
......................................
because
we're human.


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 8, 2017
Wouldn't it be crazy wonderful
To see in person some of
The most noted Wordsworth's
And personalities that
Hello Poetry has to offer?
August 15th would be good
Here in Clayhatchee Bamalama
In the south with nothing else to offer but the woods and cornstalks the peanut dust air.
It would be a festival. A face to face to finally meet the poets I admire and describe in my head by their words and their profile.
I'm about to start a gofundme page to make the wildest dreams come true. Imagine Eliot greeting you in person.
Its gonna be tie-dye only and sandals dress. (Weeds illegal here and the price high as hell, so bring your own)
Load up the vw van with all your poet friends.
Entrance fees waved to those
Bringing their own soap and toiletries. Oh, and beer....or ***....whisky....tequila.... Etc.
We are also going to need qualified trippers to man the LSD flipout tent.  Please apply here: www.hpflipouttent.com
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