I wrote this for my pal Cyranny. I bother her a bit with silly rhymes inspired by her own ACTUAL POETRY, which can be found Here. I thought that I might post it just as a means of keeping record of it because it represents a change in style that I might pursue at some time in the future. It is not quite as silly as most of my work, I think.
Or maybe it is.
****************
In a grey world
The colour
Fading with every day
Of her absence
And wondering
In every way
How I might love her
And beg her
To stay
In this vacuum
With our breath
Taken away
By beauty
And the things
We can’t say
It may make more sense with reference to the inspiration
ah thanks, I’ll pass it onto Mum as she obviously inspired this!
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Listen Kate …. out of the deep respect that I have always held for your mother I have tried to keep her name out of all this. God knows she endured enough of my nauseating poetry as a teenager, not to mention streams of correspondence foisted upon her in the early years of her marriage to the man you recall as your father. That she remains the focal point of it 50 years later may be more than her tender heart can take. It is best for her to remember me as having died (as I led her to believe) in Spain during the running of the bulls in 1973.
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😦
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