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 Jul 2018 nawke
Emily Dickinson

God is indeed a jealous God—
He cannot bear to see
That we had rather not with Him
But with each other play.
 Jul 2018 nawke
Emily Dickinson

I am alive—I guess—
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory—
And at my finger’s end—

The Carmine—tingles warm—
And if I hold a Glass
Across my Mouth—it blurs it—
Physician’s—proof of Breath—

I am alive—because
I am not in a Room—
The Parlor—Commonly—it is—
So Visitors may come—

And lean—and view it sidewise—
And add “How cold—it grew”—
And “Was it conscious—when it stepped
In Immortality?”

I am alive—because
I do not own a House—
Entitled to myself—precise—
And fitting no one else—

And marked my Girlhood’s name—
So Visitors may know
Which Door is mine—and not
 Jul 2018 nawke
Emily Dickinson

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you—Nobody—Too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise—you know!

How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one’s name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
 Jul 2018 nawke
Emily Dickinson

I watched the Moon around the House
Until upon a Pane—
She stopped—a Traveller’s privilege—for Rest—
And there upon

I gazed—as at a stranger—
The Lady in the Town
Doth think no incivility
To lift her Glass—upon—

But never Stranger justified
The Curiosity
Like Mine—for not a Foot—nor Hand—
Nor Formula—had she—

But like a Head—a Guillotine
Slid carelessly away—
Did independent, Amber—
Sustain her in the sky—

Or like a Stemless Flower—
Upheld in rolling Air
By finer Gravitations—
Than bind Philosopher—

No Hunger—had she—nor an Inn—
Her Toilette—to suffice—
Nor Avocation—nor Concern
For little Mysteries

As harass us—like Life—and Death—
And Afterwards—or Nay—
But seemed engrossed to Absolute—
With shining—and the Sky—

The privilege to scrutinize
Was scarce upon my Eyes
When, with a Silver practise—
She vaulted out of Gaze—

And next—I met her on a Cloud—
Myself too far below
To follow her superior Road—
Or its advantage—Blue—
 Jul 2018 nawke
Valsa George
Stealing away from the noise and glare
I paced the aisles of an ancient library
Being worn and tired, indisposed to read
I sat in a corner, lost in half reverie

Around me were books stacked end on end
In safely locked glass and wooden shelves
And sectioned into different genres
Fiction, non- fiction, verse et al, in thinly layered leaves

I felt lost in this vast continent of erudite friends
Poet, scholar, philosopher and sage, each sat quiet
But those silent souls seemed to crave for human touch
Waiting to serve anytime learning’s lovesome diet

Closely sheltered from the tumult of the world
The place, though serene had an eerie air
And books like so many beauties in a harem
Were kept away in seclusion just to admire

The lifeless air and the long deserted look
Mildly disturbed my inner calm
Couldn’t digest man’s total disregard of books
Which for long, to many a lonely soul, served as balm

Sitting amid those gallant souls
I thought over the relentless efforts of sage like men
Who in the stillness of the night, in their cloistured cells
Plunged into research and meditative reflection

What knowledge is garnered in these tomes!
What all charms, encased in these pages!
To what magic lands they can carry us
Sharing with us the accumulated wisdom of ages

With the profusion of electronic gadgets
And information, readily available by a finger hit
Books no more are given a venerable treat
And fated to be stashed away in corners unlit

Heavy with the time tested wisdom of the wise
They sit huddled together in damp corners
Longing to get a little human warmth
But sadly neglected like rusted burners

After an hour’s enervating reprieve
While I was leaving that dumb world
In my ears, fell a faint sound
Of the agonizing cry of the Printed Word!
 Jul 2018 nawke
Jackie Mead
First you are born
Then everyone experiences the same firsts, just at different time bursts

Your first cuddle
Your first smile
Your first solid food
Your first tooth
Your first steps
Your first word
Your first shoes
Your first lullaby
Your first haircut

With your family you begin to create memorable firsts that last a lifetime.

Your first time holding a knife and fork
Your first visit to the park
Your first birthday
Your first visit to Father Christmas
Your first time riding a bike
Your first time going on a hike
Your first time roller skating
Your first time climbing a tree
Your first time grazing your knee
Your first holiday
Your first swimming lesson
Your first school
Your first exam
Your first cinema outing
Your first visit to the zoo
Your first ice cream

Next moving into your teens and the firsts that period brings, some of angst and fallen dreams.

Your first spot on your face
Your first period
Your first High Heel shoes
Your first boyfriend or girlfriend
Your first kiss
Your first broken heart
Your first day at High School
Your first crush on a Teacher
Your first forever friend
Your first day at College
Your first interview
Your first job
Your first driving lesson
Your first car

When you are older, if you are lucky, you find someone to share experiences with and your firsts become 1+1 = 2

When we first met
Our first date
Our first touch
Our first kiss
Our first dance
Our first song
Our first concert
Our first house
Our first child
Our first trip to the beach
Our first trip to the rugby
Our first trip to the speedway
Our first holiday at home
Our first holiday abroad
Our first ride on a train
Our first trip on an aeroplane
Our first car
Our first new car
Our first summer ball
Our first Winter ball
Our first trip to a museum
Our first grandchild

Looking for the firsts in life, will give you a life full of fun and surprise.
Reach for the first no matter what you do, keeping life interesting and new.
A life full of firsts will keep you young at heart.
Keep seeking out the firsts, until the day you depart.
 Jul 2018 nawke
Alice x
 Jul 2018 nawke
I stumbled into a world
where good vs. evil was routine;
where cards were alive, cats talked,
and a strange man asked me to tea.

I was young and forgetful,
the memory faded away
then one day I fell again
chasing a rabbit with a familiar face.

I was confused
my destiny once again unclear
a peculiar catterpillar
told me what was to appear.

If I shall fall again,
and be given another test
I hope the question is
"how is a raven like a writing desk?"
 Jul 2018 nawke
Mark Tilford
it is where
we will be there-there is no time to spare
to find this place
in its space
we will stand face to face
we will finally embrace
then all time will erase
not leaving a trace

it is where
we dare
to start to care
where we become very aware
that we will become a pair

it is where
there is no past
at last

it is where
where love last
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