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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Aug 2022
Star jumps
offwhite grey and that's only the clouds that are heading my way.
Summer is that time I knew
when the Sun shone brightly
and the sky was a sheet of blue
where the dreams we held close
might just come true,
now
the candles are on and
everyone's home,
the heating is off and
we're chilled to the bone
with only the memory of summer
to keep us warm.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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