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Friday 29 September 2017

32

I wake, from the sight and sound of stripping wallpaper, I know where the bedroom is but I won't bore you with the detail, suffice to say that in my half-sense stupor I feel to be in that place, as I get out of bed.

I recognise that I am doing something which makes the maximum impact for the minimum effort, my heart isn't in the task and I leave it, as with most things, left half-completed.



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Thursday 28 September 2017

31

I have given something up, or rather had it taken from me
I haven't found a replacement, and know not what I am looking for
My own gentleness is fading amongst all the gentleness that surrounds me
Belligerent and bombastic are two words to describe my current way of going on

It's not what anyone wants, not that I know what anyone wants
Other than I have the idea of a straight line, a clear sky
A dream of a quieter place, with time for deeper reflection
Somewhere to be myself, to find something there to be true



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Wednesday 27 September 2017

30

Pitch black
Out of the windows
Turning slow to light
Tree branches wave
Wild in the wind
I felt excluded
Set out to be set alone
Unable to soften
Unable

To reach you

Intolerably awkward
Disingenuous
How to salvage compassion
Or better still
To pass on the baton
All of this before
The rains came
And the music

Played for you

All of this before
The tea and the toast
And a warm bath


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Tuesday 26 September 2017

29

What then
With a new beginning
What then
With no end in sight
What then
With no purpose given
What then
For fight or flight

Pages and pages
Books of blank paper
Thoughts and thoughts
Finding hopes of continuity
Ages and ages
Searching is a right caper
Noughts and noughts
Climbing ropes for security

What then
With a new halfway
What then
If it's moving on, right
What then
If still squandering
What then
Of that second sight


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Monday 25 September 2017

28

Some people are steady, as those beautiful waves, that lap gently to and fro, on the vast expanse of golden sands

There are those, less steady, who like their music played loud, who thrive on explosions in the sky

Then there are the lucky ones, those free spirited souls who step easily from one path to the other; one day rich with laughter playing hopscotch or marbles, one day reflecting quietly, reading their latest book; or else they are to be found, drunk as lords, with friends in the pub, or asleep, on the grass verge


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