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Donall Dempsey
Poems
Aug 2017
RUNNING NAKED ALONG THE CLIFFS OF MOHER IN A THUNDERSTORM
RUNNING NAKED ALONG THE CLIFFS OF MOHER IN A THUNDERSTORM
She ran on
into the storm
the last shreds of her
designer clothes
shrieking out to sea
terrifying the gulls
'I'm free...I'm free! '
she screamed nakedly.
The divorce papers(that
had finally come through)
tore themselves apart &
flew...flew...to the four
winds unfurling her fury
(laced with lightnings)
she conducted the storm
in a fine frenzy.
Nature's orchestra
drawing her to this
crescendo of self.
'****** tourists! '
bellowed the blustering
one man & his dog.
Written by
Donall Dempsey
Guildford
(Guildford)
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Keith Wilson
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