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A poem written to a family member, who'd borrowed a book of mine. You know the story. Enjoy!
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I
remember the day so clearly,
she
came into my hospital room,
sitting
on the bed she asked,
“How
important is walking to you?&rdqu..
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I have a friend who is an artist and will enter his work in an upcoming art show. I was asked to write a piece to be mounted alongside. What an honour..
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he sees the shirt she made
(years since it’s fitted, but
the colours, the feeling)
the green bottle sitting on
the dr..
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I remember it from when I was a child,
t'was there my naive mind ran wild,
in the corner and painted green,
the brightest shade you’d ever..
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Reflecting on my handicap, my family and family love, especially my parents.. Forms part of a bigger project, 'Journey', a collection of poetry I want..
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Thinking about the growing up disabled, but with my three elder siblings.
(Updated, thank you Beccy.)
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(Why Love?)
Why ....
a heart, if not to love,
for someone’s life to be part of,
a mind, if not to know
thoughts of love..
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In the passing of a very dear friend, a beautiful old man, in his ninetieth year.
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As we approach ANZAC Day commorations on 25 April, a call to stop and remember those who have fallen, in all theatres of war, to give us a better life..
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