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May 2017
Hannah my girl,
When you left the clock stopped.
You reached into my soul,
And extinguished the flame with your finger tips.

The wind ceased to blow,
The tides became idle.
Water holes tainted,
And the watching sun set never to rise again.

You would not like it here my love,
Emotions blow like barren tundra and regrets are plentiful,
as were our thoughts.

Nothing grows here nor flowers,
The trees weep constantly as do I.
The desperate ravage the earth,
But here I reside.

I will wait for you in these dark waters,
Until we hear the clock chime again, together.
Mark Penfold
Written by
Mark Penfold  Bournemouth
(Bournemouth)   
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