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Steve Page Aug 29
Not waving, but drying.
Not surrender, but hope.
Not a reckless abandon
to the uncaring elements,
but a careful reading of the gusts,
of the distant clouds,
of any sign of coming gales.

Not waving, but drying
by a canny application
of my mother's oversized,
double applied,
long-legged, wooden pegs.

Not waving, but drying
by lunchtime.
Inspired by Dot Walker Art
The Optimist.
Sometimes memories flow
over me like an Incoming tide from the sea gently soothing washing over
me but removing all bad memories from my
so I can remember all those wonderful times
It's like I'm laid on a beach sun beating down so warm with all my thoughts just washing over me with each wave happy smiling
as the water run over
Just happy laid their deep In thought not aware of anything around but for the sound of breaking waves and seagulls stealing fish from the
Deep thought while passing the time of day deep In thought of yesterday
Johnny walker Feb 18
No more kissing will I ever do or holding hand as we walked no more rides In the car with Helen sat beside me

No more trips to seaside or dinky doughnuts down by the sea nice cups of tea no more Ice cream or watching donkey giving ride on the beach to the children

And no tea and white buttered toast at her favourite cafe In the mornings no kissing goodnight or waking to
her upon the morning light no more brushing or washing her hair

No helping Helen to dress in the mornings or
getting her ready for bed In the evenings and all of this sadly missed for I'll never do any this
The sudden awareness she not there and all the things you did together you'll no longer do
Annie Oct 2018
I want to be this
wet white dress
hanging alone on the line,
on such a gentle
Sunday morning.

Why do I want to be this dress
so badly?
Every time I glance it’s way
I’m surprised with the jealousy I feel.
I must be jealous of its peace,
I suppose.

It has no need to do anything
all day long,
except hang there
and sweetly dry
in its own time.
Mida Burtons Feb 2018
i see my life hung out to dry
my memories slowly falling to the ground
my mind losing all colour
leaving behind a shell of the person i once was
slowly i shrink
Poetic T Sep 2017
Where soulless white shades hang.
                             The tempest of breath
Clings around these hung effigies..
Drying them of sweet nectars fluid..
                          Even though evaporated
     the essence of summer lingers.
Faith is not based on
It's based on love
And a sound mind ..
I thank God for the gift of discernment
It gives you great insight
Able to see what is true /false.
Able to test the spirit .
Of doctince .
God isn't  a spirit of fear but of a sound mind
Perfect ;Love casts out fear. .
Donna Aug 2017
the sky burped up wind
a case of indigestion
attacked all of earth


'twas a great day to
dry clothes on rotary line
it acted well mad

I tried hanging up
bed sheet but it wrapped me like
chicken fajitas

my hair got messy
and my dress try to fly like
a bright summer kite

I manage to peg
up clothes but not without a
Jackie Chan back flip

and the pegs didn't
help they decided for an
early retirement

ah well least all clothes
are nicely dried now and smell
of summer flowers

just need to tackle
all ironing , now where have my
mountain boots gone!!
It such a windy day today and I actually did get attack by trying to hang up bed sheet it was totally mad x
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