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She looked beautiful. 
She looked prettier 
Than the stars,
And the wind gentle
In her wake. 
A peek,
And I was Wordnapped.
...................   .....................
She looked beautiful; but
She was not beautiful.
© copyright
Will I see another dawn
another night 
another way 
for now I'm ticking slow 
and I'd very much like you to know 
that I love you 
I think you know 
but I'll tell you so

the moon is low 
the summer's gone 
my autumn's come 
farewell to you 
farewell to every one 
my life is done 
my own particular heaven won
I see beyond 
into the dark 
into the light 
I'll die tonight

Margaret Ann Waddicor 5th September 2015
A friend of ours died, he took a little Cognac with his favourite cake, painted a little, then went to bed and slept in. This I sent to his daughter and son.
They say, in the city of dreams
We only look towards the sea in the west,
The open, the surreal emptiness
amidst all the concrete realities.

The waves recede to only come back stronger
As if they are listening to our voices,
While colliding against all that is brick and mortar,
Spraying the fruit of a wasted effort,
On the children of the promenade

The bricks are here to stay, and so is the sea
Both in mutual agreement to not harbour
Any more than what they can take
she walks at the edge of my sanity
and knows she can cross the line
where reason becomes a distant thought process
where anger engages fear
and control is hers
where the power she feels
excuses her brief, uncontrolled period
of love
She stood there quivering,
Then about to speak the unspeakable,
Unbinding her tongue she opened her mouth
With a few words and a quaint sob escaping her mouth
Stood there blinking
Not knowing what to speak pain unfurling her heart
She looked at his eyes directly but could not even sound her pain
In anger he broke the silence and without any thought
He pulled out his knife and there she stood with her eyes filled with tears
Trying to speak what she couldn’t express
With her tongue out she uttered o’er there… and stopped
Lost in anger he cut off her tongue
Without being able to utter she stood unspeakable
For ever hidden
Behind the wound she hid her pain
The culprit walked free
He did not know that behind her pain
Was a greater wound than just this wounded tongue
Her eyes pleading to the cruelty of human heart
She held her heart and head high
Lost in thoughts to tell him of her story
She started writing her diary
Often up from her bed late at night
She dotted many a line
Words filled day by day
Lost in pain and writing
She finally grew out of it
Learned that her body is just a sheath
Beneath its layers lies a deeper soul
Untouched and full of promise
Weeks passed by and months followed
And she was fully ready
To tell her story of pain
Nobody was interested
But she parceled her diary to him
He had missed her a lot
And he knew it was his loss
Then this new turning
Surprised he stood in silence
He had her gift
Unbinding he was so eager
To reach for its content
To his surprise it was her diary.
Leafing through the pages
A thousand words buzzed his head
Not knowing what to do
His hands started shivering
And the last page turned open
I was ***** and the man is o’er there
It echoed: oe’r there, oe’r there
Realizing his mistake he cried out his heart aloud
He had wounded her double
Knowing now why it was unspeakable
How hard it was to speak
He begged her forgiveness

With a smile on her lips and warmth in her heart
‘Unspeakable’ she stood watching him.
-------------
"The above poem was triggered by a newspaper article that pained her so much, that she felt at once the need to write."
One day
it all started out differently
from the way the sun rose
to the walk to work

One day my hair was at its worst
my skin was frosty
and my nose flaky

One day I had no music
on my stroll
and no money in my wallet

One day lunch was late
my stomach was growling
my inspiration was dim
and my nails bitten

One day I walked
into my office to a meeting
the heater was broken

I started writing
my pencil broke

then there was a
"hello"
that erased
all
that
i am in the middle
of a storm, a war
broke out
between my flesh and soul

Huge waves
break, pull me in
drown me in my failings
and fears

water fills
my lungs
eyes
sore
from the ocean
or from the tear-
flooded days
and nights

i don’t know which
is which or where
it hurts or why
i am feeling
this way
or how could i survive
this squall

all i can see
is darkness in the bottom
of the ocean where your memories
lie, together with all the broken
promises and hearts
smugness covers only skin
but it can't cover what's within
when there's nothing left to win
why would we want to live again?

smugness smothers other men
the stuff we cover with a grin
we are the same without within
but we would rather play pretend
sadness, madness:

to have your heart broken
and
to write about it
like it's the most beautiful thing
you've ever felt
and experienced
and
like it's the most beautiful thing
to feel

when it actually kills you.

— l. m
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