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The sky is blue
the sun is shining
all around the little birds sing

In the distance the sounds
of a lawn mower
the laughter of a child

Pink flowers on the camellia bush
green moss in the grass
leaf buds on the oak tree

Sparrows on the feeder
a blackbird taking a bath
a robin looking at me from the fence

in this time of global pandemic
this is my normality
a surreal reality

Working from home
a novelty for many today
my life for much of twenty years

social isolation daily life
for all now
my life for the past 15 years

I give deep gratitude
for this experience
from every atom of my soul

Our past always
leads us to
our present

This is not the time
for pointing fingers
for one up manship

Nor is it a time
for ego
or greed

It is the opportunity
for I to become
we

For Illness
to become
wellness

It is the time
for  community
during  isolation

It is the time
to believe
in possibility

In the possibility
that from global pandemic
we can create

a beautiful new world
Lightness touched darkness.
Haunting melodic echoes
danced off painted sky.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
http://web.mac.com/jrlesueur
it’s a strange place
this alien isle
land of big skies
and endless red earth

this place of dreaming
of promise and hope
of black fellas
and white convict stock

this place of flowers
coloured larger than life
of kookaburras, koalas
and ‘roos

this place where the sand
is whiter than white
and the sharks rule
turquoise blue seas

this land of dust
and fragrant winds
where silvered light
blinds and burns

this place that keeps secrets
close to its breast
and where man is in thrall
to the land
© Inspirational Alchemy 2010 All Rights Reserved
Christmas excitement
Gaffers & gofers
booms & boxes
trucks & trolleys

They've chosen today
to shoot a movie
2 floors below me
No pics allowed

Twenty four tropical Christmases
It still seems so odd
so discordant
Disconnected

Gambling movies filmed
when most of my friends
are last-minute shopping
and thinking of Santa

They're wrapping presents
and keeping secrets
Thinking about how long
the turkey will take to cook

Dressed in jumpers
coats and scarves
Fingers blue
noses red

No puddles to slide on here
no snow
Just air like silk
and monsoon rain

Sweat trickling
in endless rivers
No goose bumps leaving tracks
across my skin

Out the window
cheeky mynah birds chatter
a white bellied eagle soars
Not a robin in sight

As the sun sets
painting the sky
a kaleidoscope
of gentle colour


A nomad soul wonders
why she's happy to wander
And yet
she so longs to belong
Singapore. Christmas Eve, 2010

© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
A sickly sweet smell lingers
Bodies
Legs in the air
Bloated bellies

Senseless slaughter
Rivers of blood in country lanes
Hundreds of thousands dead
If this were a war in a foreign land there would be outrage

Instead of crying “Shame… Stop…”
The government shouts “****…Cull…”
and drafts the Army into a battle
on home soil that they're not trained for

It’s got all the facets of a work of fiction
******, lies, cover up
larger than life figures and unsung heroes
And above all, innocent victims

What will our children say
when they read of this real-life genocide?
Heads will hang in shame
and the pervasive memory of death will remain
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved

(Written in Devon, England in April 2001 at the height of the foot and mouth crisis. A forgoten poem, rediscovered this morning as I sort through my office. The poem may have been forgotten for the past decade but the sights and smells of that terrible time are as viseral now as they were then.)
Tears of salt, ties of
blood tight; father and daughter
no distance can part.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012. All Rights Reserved

(Written last year in the hour after my Pa left this earth. Found this afternoon.)
Pheasant calls, mist a
gentle cloak. Ephemeral,
you smiled and were gone.
Copyright Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/autumn
a city with a past
that echoes unrelentingly
through its present

a city of whispering shadows
& tortured souls
of sharp edges
& crystallised tears



© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2016 All Rights Reserved
Written on a cold, snowy morning in  February 2010 having just experienced the Monument to the Murdered European Jews...2711 concrete stelae representing the 6 million Jews killed in the Holocaust
fingers of light
one by one reaching out
gently caressing the sky
with dawn

birdsong
note by note soaring up
softly filling the air
with song

this Sunday morning
last Sunday morning

the death of night
bringing the birth of day
in the cycle of life
where time waits for no one
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved
I need to write you a letter
its content will hurt you
I'm sure
But there are words that need to be voiced
Pain that has rattled around in my soul
for five decades left unsaid

Your end is near
four months they said
that was almost three hundred days back
You are holding on
by the strength of your will
and here I come to rock your boat

Or will I

Am I so sure what I need to air
will bring a storm to your port
Perhaps this is just me clinging to hope
like a castaway hangs on to a plank
I have always wanted with all of my heart
to know you loved me, your daughter

Maybe I need to accept once and for all that you don't
because you don't know how to

or maybe you don't want to

Should I write my letter I ask myself
as I let my thoughts flow onto this page
What is there to gain if you will not talk
you have always refused to engage in the past
You know you have little time left
but why should this be a reason to change

Perhaps the time has come for me to say
'I release you, Pa'

and walk away …
c Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved
Maybe four years old
Pretty pink pyjamas
***** and torn

Wisdom of age
Beyond young years
Etched on your sad face

Feet cut & bleeding
Have they ever
seen shoes?

Hair matted
Twigs for adornment
Baubles of the earth

Blue plastic mug
Held upwards
Empty

You were here yesterday
You will be here tomorrow
But for how long?

The world walks by
Seeing you
Avoiding you

You touch their hearts
Maybe their souls
But not their wallets

It’s not money
You need in your blue mug
It’s love
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/child

(Written in Bangkok)
Born of love
one likes to think
They never told you

Actions speak louder than words

Their actions told of no love unspoken
But instead
of resentment and anger
that you came into the world

Like a broken record

You didn't understand
You thought it all a mistake
They didn't belong to you
You came from someone else

But that was just denial
You didn't want to believe
that those who brought you forth
could be so cruel

"Sticks and stones will break my bones
but words will never hurt me."
Childhood mantra

Lies

Words strike the deepest wound
Cut through the layers
no wall impenetrable

Imprinted
in permanent ink

Or so you thought

Time moves on
death
age
illness
change the matrix

In your darkest hour
you think
"Can I forgive?
Can I forget?"

And then the demons came
travelling on the wings of death

A seemingly endless
drug-induced battle against illness
surgery on surgery
medevacs

"Come on," you say
"I can beat you all."

Bravado
but actually the truth

Demons equal rubbers

Triumph over them...
patterns, imprints erased

Enter step mother - stage right
Rug pulled
world upside down again

But you allowed it

Time stops for no man
Or woman
Age
More surgery

Mirrors

Thankful for all past events
They molded you
to the person you are

Give thanks with open heart
to he and she
For all their deeds

Their words didn't hurt you
They fertilised you
You blossomed

Build the bridge

He is old
He is your father
No denying it

Tell him you love him
With unfettered heart
And forgiveness in your voice

Be
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/on-the-matter-of-choice

(written in 2005)
circular world
world of circles
forever forming
closing


experiences layered
white upon black
laughter over tears


fragile plates of existence
adrift on
hot-tempered magma


death
in life
in death
perpetual spherical passage  


blood spilled
lives shattered
in the name of religion
again


universe formed
in explosion
man murders man
with explosives


circle returning on itself
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
everywhere knife blades
sharp
relentless

no peace
amongst the chaos
only madness

noise
filling every space
silence slaughtered

smiles gone
replaced by anguish
the angels weep
©jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved

'City of Angels' - the English translation of the Thai name for Bangkok. This poem was written there in 2005.

http://web.mac.com/jrlesueur
Confusion
enemy of sanity,
champion of creation.

Broken heart,
mended over time.
Laughter and tears
different sides of the same coin.

Lack of honesty
fear of transparency.
Living a lie,
fearing the truth.

Words run through my mind
like an uncontrollable train.
To say, or not?
To say or not?
Wheels going endlessly round.

Convert the energy
Into something more productive.
Would be sensible, no?

To the hell with sensibility.

Confusion reigns.
(Written in Bangkok 6 years ago...as valid now as it was then albeit for a completely different reason.)

©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
how is it possible
to be so very lonely
when
here
on this equatorial isle
it
is
impossible
to be alone
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2014 All Rights Reserved
Cranes fly as earth cries.
Land of rising sun gathers,
glues fragments shattered.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All rights Reserved
Lily pads floating.
Darkness deep; moon veiled this night.
Boatmen dance, geese sleep.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
Birdsong melody
woven into morning mist.
Snowdrops, buzzard. Life.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
symphony of sound
a discordant composition
orchestra on cosmic stage
witching hour to dawn

woken by screeching wind
twisting that way and this
manic banshees
rampaging

in through the window
chilling my body with cold damp fingers
shutting them out
they howl even louder

joined later by rain
incessant drumbeats
endless cadence
on hard earth

lightening
synthesized energy
streaking uncontrollably
around nature's concert hall


listening in silence
watching in awe
standing ovation
applauding unseen hands
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved

Written in Singapore during an equatorial storm of magnificent proportions
We stepped onto
each other’s paths,
you and I,
your journey and mine entwined.

Paths that crossed unexpectedly,
the hand of destiny
editing our scripts.
A magical moment.

Like flowers blossoming
in the warmth of spring,
we turned to face
into each other’s light.

And in that light
our souls dance,
to a sacred rhythm.
Beyond all time and space.

In your physical absence
your presence echoes
in my heart and soul.
Here… although you are there.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights reserved

Written in Bali a few years ago
Her name is Chang Champoo,
translated as ‘Elephant Pink.’
Met on the street in tourist Thailand.
9 years old.
6 months pregnant.
A beggar in an urban landscape.

Hungry,
grabbing sugar cane from my fingers.
Desperate for food.
Destined for an early grave.

“Where are you from?”
A question to her mahout,
in Thai hauled from fragments of memory.
“The border.”  
Seemingly obtuse but not really.
Only one nearby.
Burma.

Elephants,
born in captivity,
used in logging,
now unemployed.
Teak forests of old but a distant memory.

Did I only fuel her belly
buying over-priced sugar cane?
Or did I also fuel
rampant exploitation
of disadvantaged animals?

Not everything in life
Is black and white.
Sometimes it is grey,
This night it was Pink.
How could I refuse her sustenance
when confronted by those
mournful pachyderm eyes.

The question lingers…
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved

(Written in Thailand several years ago in the hours after meeting Chang Champoo. Now, in 2011, the question still lingers.)
in the moonlight of your life
your skin drapes loose over your bones
documenting your existence
and wrapping up memories
that you have determined will remain untold
leaving me wondering what you might have said
and now never will
c Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
"I do love you, you know, love
It's just too late
to do anything about it now."

Heartfelt words spoken
at the end of a day
that'd seen six heart attacks
come and go

Across the hours
your silence spoke volumes
marching time as it did through your pain

Eyes closed to the world
until those last words
spoken with such passion
as I steeled myself to leave

You grasped my hand
held it tight to your chest
your gaze like a cloak encircling me

Gravity carried my tears
anguish spotting the floor
yours a lifetime of sorrows
staining the pillow

How I walked away
I will never know
my heart breaking with each step

Death was expected
the very next day
already it was knocking
but you didn't open the door

Not for another
forty-four days
finally leaving wrapped in my embrace

Ready you were
after our time together
your room in the hospice
our port in the storm

We laughed and we cried
we talked and forgave
we journeyed far and deep

You had said it was too late
to show me your love
but truly it wasn't
you know, Pa

You did an excellent job
at the end of the day
and in your own way
my  life through

I may have nothing material
to remind me of you
but my memories will never fade
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012. All Rights Reserved
four sleeps
four more sleeps
and then that day arrives
the day
if you are not careful
that reminds you
of all you are not

you are not a mother
nor a sister
nor an aunt
you do not have family
you can go and visit

when you wake
on that day
there is no laughter echoing
nor  paper ripping
as presents are opened
before the kettle has boiled

instead
your house
echoes with emptiness
you will eat your turkey and trimmings alone
no debate about who sits where at the table
nor fights for supremacy of the remote control

please

do not be sad for me

reframe your matrix
the way I do

my heart beats with the gift of life
my memory is filled
with the richness of days gone by
and each moment I breathe
the only moment any of us has
is filled with belief and shaped by joy

I am not a mother
nor a sister
nor an aunt
I do not have family
I can go and visit
I will eat alone on Christmas Day

but what I am is me

and for that I am blessed
as you are for being you
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
ice ... ice ... ice ... ice
Nothing. De nada.
Zilch. Zero.
My creativity's out to lunch,
just as it has been for 18 months.

I don't know what to do.

I'm scared, you know.
Words are my rock,
my port in a stormy sea.
I am stuck in the ice
and it ain't very nice.

I don't know what to do.

I've looked in here
and I've looked over there.
It's like I've died a death.
My heart is beating
and I'm still eating.

I don't know what to do.

Perhaps I should turn
my face to the sun
and bathe in its warming light.
Maybe that will reignite the flame,
melt the ice and I will write once again.

Yes...now I know what to do.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012. All Rights Reserved.
Cobalt night; threads of
jasmine woven with moonlight.
Earth and ether smile.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
Agung, Abang, Batur
sacred volcanoes
gateways to Gaia

standing silent
omnipresent
dawn’s light your only adornment

at your feet
paddy fields
emerald carpets
across which you stride
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved

(Written whilst looking out of my window in rural Bali at a sight that greeted me every day)
Blue floor, blue chair
flowered curtains and
a view of fields
beyond the window.

Bed, unmade.
What history does
that hold, I wonder?
Radio plays, chatter, soft footsteps.

The Big Man arrives.
Kind, gentle, dark eyes.
Soft voice, good hands.
Pulls no punches.

This is what will happen.
He says, do I understand?
The words, of course I do.
The impact? Let's see.

The gas man arrives.
Banters jovially.
Nice of him to try but
I'm beyond all that.

He knows how to put us out
but his experience
of the experience?
Minimal. I asked.

Always throws them, that.
When you ask them if
they know what it is like.
So easy to be glib without pain.

This risk and that.
Do you understand,
they ask once again.
Sign here. "Good luck."

Never had a surgeon
Say, "good luck" before.
Sun's gone in,
It's raining now.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011. All Rights Reserved
50 quid a night
Bleak walls
***** curtains
'Thieves abound' signs.
What do you expect?

Rumbling
deep and dark
Boeings vying
with Airbus
for air space

Around me
surrounded
held hostage by
a mix of humanity
that defies belief

Tats & shaven eyebrows
Over there a Rolex
Business people
thin on the ground
Holidaymakers

construction gangs
football teams
flight crew...
No pilots, mind
Families

And then there are
the lonesomes
like me
and people shouting
into their digital fruits

Only 50 quid a night
What do you expect?
What you've got...
A melting *** of humanity
In all its gore & gloriousness
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011. All Rights Reserved
lost

in the labyrinth
of memory

knocking

on doors that
cannot be opened

grasping

for fragments
forever out of reach

seeking

what can never
be recalled

knowing

you know
and yet you don't

so lost
c Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved
hard edges
relentlessly slicing my soul
rending to tatters if allowed

forever protecting
constantly repairing

I gaze seawards, skywards
to vistas beyond vision
worlds with no hard edges

expanses where souls dance
to the lullaby of love

borderless
beyond time and space

leave me there
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/hard-edges


(written in Bangkok 2005)
Apples and Blackberrys
The fruits of your belonging
On the table… place of prominence
Screaming ‘look at me!’
Clinging to their network
As you do to yours

Talking to your colleagues
Eyes flitting from one to other
As your fingers anxiously search
The table next to your glass
Constantly seeking the reassurance
Of your disconnected connectivity

Voices compete with ringtones
Over the rumble of the traffic
And the hollow echoes of your laughter
I can’t help but ask myself
Where are you?
Are you really there?
©Jacqueline Le Sueur  2011 All Rights reserved
an easy word to say
to spell
and to live by
so you would think

should be easy
and yet
it is hard
so hard

you are seen as a threat
if you stand up
and speak
an alternate opinion

tall poppy in the cornfield
head above the parapet
in the line of fire
why should it be so

ego
fear
loss of face
stand in the way

the world would be
such an easier place
if alternate views were respected
and differences honoured
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2014 All Rights Reserved
walking Van Dieman’s Land
Hobart
following footsteps through the park
christmas roses on the arm of campanulas
sashaying in the winter wind
an oxymoronic botanical dance
appropriate given the place

isle of heat to the north
isle of ice to the south
between
this isle of freedom & hope
place of salvation when the centuries turned
18th to 19th
settlement ships sailing south
feeding their human cargo
on dreams

time moves on
21st century now resides in the park
where vertical walls carry your headstones
telling your story
explaining how you stained the earth with your blood
and
why the ether echoes with your tears

so many lives measured not in years
but
in days or months

you are honoured now
finally
very right
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reservered
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/honour-in-the-park
A shadowed moment
whispering with silvered song.
I wait. Will you come?
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
Birth in death: Cycles.
New born lambs frolic in mist.
Flowers smile, birds sing.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011. All Rights Reserved
now
here
in the space of my life
I look without, within

I’ve bungy jumped
without a cord
do I plummet?
no, I soar

the fear I feel
in the depths of the night
liberates,
doesn’t tie

the joy I feel
at being me
lights up my soul
puts the sun in my eyes

the hunger I felt
for so long has gone
and its nothing
to do with dinner

it’s everything to do
with following my heart
and my dreams
through which I'm now free to wander
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved
ice
ice
Cold, blue, wet, fragile, brittle, hard, steam solidified, water hardened, anger, fear, white, tensile,

steam solidified,
water hardened; you lie
in her wintered veins.

why?

"If she's awake, I'll **** you."
staccato words spoken
like a knife blade thrown...
...with malice and intent.

Her father's voice
from the bedroom next door
no sound of her mother.

The female child cowered
under her candy-striped sheets
their usual soft comfort
unnoticed

footsteps
door handle moving
light seeping into her sanctuary

her heart thudded
trying to escape her chest
as she held her breath.

"Please, please don't hear me."
a silent plea as
fear snatched her in its icy grip.

She could smell him
smell the cigarettes
smell his power.

She waited.

He backed out
returned to her mother
between her heartbeats
she heard the slap

"You are lucky this time,
*****. She sleeps."
Heavy footsteps down the stairs
punctuated by her mother's tears.

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~

The girl child had only ever blamed her mother
decades of anger and bitterness
the memory of this night buried deep.
Crazed hard ice beneath the tundra of her life.

In the third decade of the girl child's life
her mother died
alone
never forgiven for what she hadn't done
nor for what she had.

The ice remained in the girl child's veins
If anything, thicker...harder.

Then in her fifth decade this ice became water
as with the passage of life the tundra thawed
and rising with it to the surface
the truth.

Then what?

The girl child worked hard at staying warm
at keeping the ice at bay.
Not easy.

Nothing was ever said to her father.

In her sixth decade the girl child's father died
embraced in his daughter's arms
forgiven for what he had done
and for what he hadn't.

The woman had finally thawed
she was properly warm
her own love
finally able to flow
I saw an old man in Exeter today;
saw him twice, in fact.
Each time he was eating ice cream
beneath his black felt hat.

His face was wizened, a cliche I know,
but I don’t know how else to say it.
He looked tired and worn behind his smile,
his shoulders sagged, his eyelids low.

At his feet a collection of bags,
small and medium, all black.
His wordly possessions I couldn’t but wonder,
carried around on his back.

What stories do you hold, old man,
wrapped in the parchment of your skin?
Will they be forever mysteries untold,
or do you have someone to invest them in?
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
in the chaos of your mind
what
do you
see

i don’t know
you say

in the chaos of your mind
what
changes do you
want to make

i don’t know
you say

in the chaos of your mind
where
do you
want to be

i don’t know
you say

in the chaos of your mind
what steps
can you
take

to make a difference
to make your life easier

less fraught
less anxious

filled with more joy
filled with less anger

i don’t know
you say

an endless loop
that
frustrates
you more

that exasperates me

there is a solution
a potential solution
at once so hard
at once so easy

acceptance

accept
your unique differabilty
your exceptional persona
your unique perspective on the world

accept
non-conditional love
support
kindness

accept
above all
you are worthy

because you are
The light is the truth
Religion says

I'm not sure that's the case

For it's in the dark
I really see

infinity

no beginning
no end
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012. All Rights Reserved
egg boxes stacked
one atop the other
row upon row

metal gratings
stop the world
from entering

limp washing
prayer flags
in polluted air

humanity captive
deprived of light

unable
or
unwilling to escape?
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved

(Written in Bangkok in September 2005 and revisited after a trip to the city very recently, at the end of November 2010)
Trapped in humid air,
endless echoes vanquish sleep.
Too early; too late.
Copyright Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010. All Rights Reserved.
wandering
through the shadows
of my childhood

trying
so hard
to create light from the darkness

reading
pain like Braille
all alone

listening
for laughter
hearing only tears

where
were you
when I reached out

looking
the other way
pretending all was well

ignoring
the bruises
deaf to my cries

running
is what I have been doing
three decades away from the land of my birth

hoping
that distance
would erase the past

pretending
it didn't happen
but it did

returning
at last
to look into the abyss

embracing
for the first time in fifty years
the sum total of who I am

giving
thanks for the past
for all that it is


looking
into the mirror
and finally seeing who is there
c Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
vitality wanes,
lost forever over the
edge of death's doorstep
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
Look around you.
At reflections
in mirrors
and patterned glass.

At those you know
and who you don't,
including your self.
What do you see?

Happiness, joy,
life fully lived;
or do you see
life ever-longing?

For what may be,
in one week or two,
this year or next,
five years or ten.

When we've got
more time,
are older,
have money.

This very moment
in which we live.
This ephemeral footstep in time.
Is this not the most important?

Is it not better
to live and know love,
to cry and know laughter,
to fall and be able to rise.

To walk in the light
and the dark,
and then
in the light once again.

Life is too short.
Too precious.
None of us knows
what awaits.


Have courage.
Be daring.
Take risks.
Live. And love.

To the full.

Now.
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/_life
Bravery comes in many forms
For some it is in battle in a foreign land
For others it is in battle with their body

One day a diagnosis out of the blue
Turns life on its head
Turfs plans out the window

What’s this?
Why me?
I don’t know what to do

Plaintive cries echo in the darkness
As you stand alone despite those around you
For you alone can fight this battle

There is advice of course
From the medics and others
There is treatment in various forms

Diagnosis turns to prognosis
At some point down the line
You always hope for the best

Against all odds you fight
Try this and that
Mainstream and sometimes out of the stream

You do whatever you need to do
It is the way
It is your fight

But life is such that death
- that word we are not meant to utter -
Is inevitable and so it arrives

Even when expected
Such as it can be
It knocks the living sideways

But we need to respect
It was your battle
You chose weapons that suited you

You fought so hard
It wasn't always easy
But fight you did

And now you have moved on from this life
But please know
My life is richer because of you

You will never be forgotten
(in memory of David Wells Snr who died last night)

©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
like heavy snowfall
loneliness is crushing me;
cold, harsh, destructive.
Laptop lens views world;
death by nature, death by man.
Hearts weep as souls fly.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved

(written in the aftermath of the Christchurch earthquake in February this year)
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