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Kirsty Taylor Apr 2021
I didn't know when I'd see you again,
Four years loved and lost,
Right here.

Every time I leave,
I leave a part of myself behind.
My old self lived here.

Can I learn to love you again?
I watched lives get lost living here,
I lost friends and family here.
I cried and screamed here.

I watched people get married,
I saw relationships begin.
I laughed and smiled here.

No matter how far,
You never leave my heart.
Life took a turn,
And now I'm here.

I'm ready for my next move,
I can see myself growing old here.
But I also dream of leaving here.

The time has come,
The streets glow in the winter sun.
Auld Reekie, how I missed you.
It's good to be back with you.
Oh, Prince Philip, you have served us for so long,
For seventy years… The Queen’s Kephas, the rock!
Sometimes it seems that you have always been here...
Like a Servant of the Monarchy, like power, like glory!

Oh, Prince Philip, the son of the Greek Corfu,
You, the Danish Hamlet, you, the brave soldier!
Today your life has died out, today you go to sleep...
So to sleep forever… with God in a permanent covenant!

Your city is crying and the rain is pouring down hard!
Sorrow on the faces of the Britons... You died during the plague,
You left like Paris, real, in the morning, in the spring...

Where are you going now? What kind of images do you see?
What is there after death? Will you reveal these secrets?
Are you taking these to the grave, for yourself, unfortunately?...

On the day of the death of the Greek, Danish and English Prince Philip, husband of the Queen.
HeWhoExplores Jan 2019
Edinburgh, oh lovely Edinburgh
I visited you during a Scottish storm
But, it did not deter my fascination with your beautiful rich land,
which I had set out to soak up during my short welcoming stay
I saw castles and monuments
galleries and eateries
even little pubs and alleyways
that tickled my fascination
I took midnight strolls into the backstreets
and met lovely people who equally shared gratitude towards your wondrous land
And so, I leave temporarily at least
with a little something to say
"Thanks for the memories, I'll be back indefinitely,
with more love and awe to share than ever before!"
A memory from Edinburgh
You might as well ask me
Not to take another breath -
To climb to the top of Arthurs seat
And not stand with my arms outstretched –
To stand in the middle of an icy street –
In the depths of midwinter
And not gaze with wonder
At the cloud of unspoken poetry
Pouring from my lips
Utterly failing to warm my hands –
And ask me –
Why do I continue –
Look in awe upon something –
So natural, that gives me
So little pleasure in return
And yet enriches my life -
So indescribably?
A piece of automatic writing I came up with in roughly a minute when I had some time to myself during the Edinburgh fringe. It's a brief meditation on unrequited love, both with a person and with a city.
Laurie Chetwood Mar 2018
at the top
of the National Museum,
there is a bed of Highland Gorse,
tamed by a rope of metal, and
given Latin names.

*****, moon white branches
barely hold
sickled leaves which
fall into gloam drenched soil.

transplanted, and
awkwardly placed,
between two concrete slabs,
it looks and sounds alien to the city.

displaced, amongst the dull
incomprehensible squeal of
tourists and gulls, the heavy
roar of dim traffic, muted
bagpipes and the occasional
camera click.

looking upwards,
the shallow blue north
of an uncluttered sky,
and the thin
uneven line of an aircraft,
divided in two.
National Museum of Scotland, written across a period of four days.
Terry Collett Jun 2017
The girl entered
your small flat
and looked around.

She looked tired
and too thin.

What's yer nam?
you asked her.

she replied
what's yoors?

She looked at you
with her tired eyes.

you said.

Aam feckin' wabbit
she said
can Ah sleep
some place?

You smiled
ay coorse.

You showed her
the bedroom
and the double bed.

She kicked off
her thin soled shoes
and lay on the bed
and closed her eyes.

You left her there
and made a coffee
and sat watching TV
wondering how long
she'd stay
if she would stay.

You sipped
your coffee
and lay on the sofa
wishing she was there
beside you
snuggled up close
her red curly hair
against your breast
her head softly at rest.
Terry Collett Jun 2017
You saw the girl
at the corner table
of the cafe
in Edinburgh
ill looking
sipping the coffee.

You walked
over to her
and said
ye swatch nae weel.

She looked at you
what's it tae ye?
she said
buck aff.

You smiled
and sat down
can ah gie
ye something?
you said.

She looked
past you
at the small
cafe door
then back at you.

if ye want
she said
her voice softer
less hostile.

You went
to the counter
and bought
a few bars
of chocolate
and another coffee
and sat down again
and gave her
the  bars.

Aw fur me?
she said.

You nodded
and smiled.

She opened a bar
of chocolate
and ate it quickly
eyeing you steadily.

What's in it fur ye?
she said.

you replied.

Depends oan wit?
she said.

Ye can bide wi' me
at mah place
you said
eyeing her paleness
and her thinness.

She ate on
looking at you.

After the one bar
she ate the other
sipping at her coffee
in between.

Once she'd finished
and said
she'd go with you
but had to go
to the toilet first
so she went off.

You sat there
the other people
in the cafe.

She returned
after a while
looking white
and her eyes were red.

You both left the cafe
back to your place
with nothing more said.
sarah May 2017
you ask me about my dreams through the rear view mirror and making me realise that to give me success you had to let me go, flooding me with endearing idioms
when your eyes look behind I'm there in an elusive way
telling me that I'm your weakness through old-sounding playlists in a new-smelling car
and I'm making you laugh as sweet as artificial strawberry over coffee in a part of the city that you don't know well, the part that I love
together we could take this place over, if you like
be concerned about where I'm going and how safe I will be, but I am staying, now you know, do not forget
I am making you happy but not in a place you need, so from May to December lets go west, far, to where your heart lies
I never thought I would publish this but here we are
Terry Collett Jul 2016
Go where?
Lydia's mother said

Lydia said

you can't go to Southend
on your own

I'm not going
on my own
I'm going with Benny

her mother
stared at her
Go with Benny?
You're both too young
to go to ****** Southend
what put that thought
into your mind?
Her mother said

we talked about it
when we were
at King's Cross station

who is we?
The mother said

Benny and me
Lydia said frowning
******* her fingers

o so you talked it over
o that's all right
then is it?
The mother said

just to Southend
as a first run
then we want to go
to Scotland
Lydia said

her mother bellowed
are you mad you two?
You can't go
to ****** Scotland
at your age
what 9 years old
and want to go Scotland
and alone?
The mother stared
at Lydia
as if she was mad

Lydia wished
Benny was there
he had a way with words
he might be able
to put it better

whose idea was it?

Both of us
Lydia said
we thought it
would be good
and we could go
to Edinburgh
and see men in kilts
and see the castle

the mother bellowed

Lydia lowered her head
and gazed at
her mother's slippers

you can't go to Scotland
or Edinburgh
or Southend
not alone
the mother said quieter
staring at her daughter

when can we go then?
Lydia said
looking at
her mother's
stockinged legs

when you are old enough
and we say so
her mother said

when will be old enough?
Lydia said
gazing at her mother's
blue patterned apron

when we say so
her mother said
and walked off
back to the kitchen
where the boiler
was boiling washing
and steam came down
the passageway

Lydia sighed
and opened the front door
and went out
to find Benny
and tell him the bad news
and not being able
to see the Edinburgh views.
Chris Thomas Apr 2016
In Edinburgh,
Where all her colors were born
Where blues grazed her eyes
And every lavender was torn

In Edinburgh,
Where lips of violet were pursed
Where the greys all surrendered
And the Lothians touched her first

In Edinburgh,
Where cobblestone formed her feet
Where her kiss swept through meadows
With windswept hair like golden wheat

In Edinburgh,
Where her roots took hold in the moors
Where her innocence first trembled
And nimble toes danced along shores

In Edinburgh,
Where her sins became my daydream
Where a tomorrow may never come
And her love only flows downstream
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