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Debbie Lydon Aug 24
Desperate, so agonisingly glutted with yearning,
Yearning to hear my voice and to know that it resounds,
So roundly that I am all at once myself, And so much myself that I remember my eyes,
My eyes that have long been forgotten in cruel glass.
Cruel, cruel glass! I have long been abandoned, and long been a veil,
But such a thin veil that always would wane,
It's falling slowly now, like a prophecy fulfilled,
Get ready to see, get ready to be seen.
The beauty beneath all our very thin veils
ogola Jul 24
"Hold you birds your silver throats, His golden voice I'm seeking"

See,
your voice
your smooth rasping voice
lulls me to sleep

Oh,
    to fall asleep
        in the cozy little caves
        in the valleys
        in the landscape
        of your voice

    to cover the glass, of my
        darkened
        distressed
        debilitated
        eyes
        with the drapes of your voice

    to cover the skin, of my
        caving
        crying
        chilling
        body
        with the quilt of your voice
on listening to my brother singing beside him, when terribly tired.
When someone’s voice
becomes
your favorite
auditory hallucination.
JAM Jun 29
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qxOrziiQzg&ab_channel=J%CE%9BM
Steve Page Jun 19
Margy shouts her advice from outside Greggs
unsolicited, but often needed
usually it concerns fashion
- the choice of a scarf
- inappropriate shoes for the weather
- or the state of a pair of trousers, hanging and baring a cleavage
(“No one wants to see that, dear.”)

Margy can be relied upon to wear the same distinct socks
– draped around her stocking feet, their multi-coloured design now greyed
by wear and the Uxbridge Road.

Margy is more reliable than her friends and she tells them as much
(“You’re all a bunch of time wasters.”)
demanding more loyalty and demands from me enough for a cup of tea
- a very expensive one apparently.

And on a Sunday, she’ll kneel and pray throughout the early Eucharist,
declining the bread and wine
(”On, no dear.  It’s not a habit I want to cultivate.”)
Arvon retreat June 2022
Mrs Timetable Jun 16
I may be simple words
But if you
Write me some music
And let me translate them
With my voice
Then I will show you
They are simply
Not just
Words
Anymore
Artistry of song writing and singing is such a gift. At least I can enjoy listening.
Mrs Timetable May 21
Your voice
Deep soft tone
Is a comfort
Puts me to rest
The man voice
I never had
As a child
To read to me
Or even miss
Now I have my own
Who knew how badly
I needed this gift
One of my favorite things is when he reads to me
Onu Abah May 19
Falling slowly,
Through eyes that know me
I can't go back

Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react

And events that never
Amount to more than they're meant will always play themselves out

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that

Take this sinking boat
and point it home
We've still got time

We would create beautiful memories
Even through sad ones
If we hold hands

Raise your hopeful voice
And make a choice
I know you will...

#Love
#elspirito
Eyes that know me...
Words fall through me and always fool me.
There was Beauty in Her Silence,
So Beautiful was Her Voice.
Each Kiss She gave, was Elegant.
They made My Heart Rejoice.
Now Her Memories are an anchor,
Dragging down My Feet and Heart.
My weight, is slowly sinking.
But My Soul is not ready to Depart.
As the Clouds begin to Gather.
Thunder strikes the Ground.
My Shadow is ready for the Night.
But My Voice has lost it's Sound.
I wish, I was.....true to Her
and had, My wrongs Mended.
My Dreams, will just be Dreams.
As now Her life has Ended.
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