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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Jan 2015
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Something knocking
one time dead,
something knocking
in my head.
My eyes open wide and that
something slides inside
and the knock, knock,
knocking fades away and then
it dies.
Baby cries deep in the crib
Mother cradles one more nib
and Father writes of sights
he's seen.
King of parlours, Queen of hearts,
no matter who
the knocking starts,
knock, knock, knocking,
baby rocking,
eyes tight shut
but
the knocking
waits.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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