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grumpy thumb Jan 2016
Winds howl
an accumulation of snatched words
none heard falling from shattered mouths.

Shadows stretch
toppled promises never kept,
wishes left to wilt,
dissipated dreams.

Chills creep
verglass eyes
red rimmed
the distant stare.

Night gulps loneliness
deeper than
the vacant swallow
between stars.
grumpy thumb Jan 2016
Went their separate ways,
but hearts are lagging behind
a waltz filmed in black and white
silent screen flickers in their mind
the goodbye a freeze frame
of a desperate time.

Moved on with their lives,
but the dance doesn't feel right
jukebox earning its coin
throwing out a verse with an aching line.
Lost in rhythm they forgot to rhyme.
Can't hear the tune over the crying.
grumpy thumb Jan 2016
Somber swings
a dismal edged guillotine
Severing possibility.
t's a bitter sharp taste to a dream
when prospects are soured by reality
grumpy thumb Jan 2016
Don't hate you,
but you're beginning to bug me
like a hangnail snagging a jeans pocket or a wind-chime in a gale.

Don't hate you,
but you're grating my nerves
like a headcold when I'm out of tissues or having to break a fifty cause I'm eight pence short on change.

Don't hate you,
but you're wearing me down
like a hole in the sole of my only boots when it rains or an intrusive question asked again and again.

Don't hate you,
but I'm getting there.
Don't want to get there,
please leave me alone
grumpy thumb Dec 2015
We were close once
thick as thieves
less the thieft.
Apart we did drift.
Our rafts were too different.
Floating on consequential seas
as time dictated the tides
and faithful lovers where we moored.
Now even constellations glimmer strange to each other.
Nought in common anymore
except where we started from
along the same stretch of shore
Old friends, still thinking of you despite the differences our lives played for us
grumpy thumb Dec 2015
Lay me down,
most passionate eyes,
drift to me this eve.
Grace me
in the sanctuary of your depths.
Fall mercifully upon me.
grumpy thumb Dec 2015
Break some bread for the miller boy.
Pour some ale for him too.
Give him a chair to sit for a while
by a fireplace warm and true.

Play your fiddle-o for the miller boy.
Sing songs that are sweet and bright.
Let him rest his weary-o feet
and dream of peace tonight.
harken to way back when
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