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Solo

I am the one

Who sat upon

The highest cliff

Reaching out to

To the loudest waves

When a man approached me

Smiling,

Though his eyes were sad

He needed someone to talk to,

I did not acknowledge him,

It was at that moment

A teardrop crept from his eye,

Falling and crashing deep into the waves

He followed,

Leaving no trace

When he jumped into the waves,

Silence clung

Like a glove,

All I could feel was his pain

Around my heart

Still…

I remain solo

I wish I had spent the time

To talk to him,

The stranger that I ignored

I wish I had been brave enough,

To hear what he had to say

I was his last hope

Now I will never know

The hurt he held inside

I will never know,

How many times he had cried

About whatever secret he held inside

Why his tear drops fell

Into the hungry waters,

Whilst I sat upon the highest cliff

Reaching out to the loudest waves,

Still I remain solo

by Gillian Sims

Painting Songs – Promote Yourself

Bluebells-in-spring-woodl-007

My mind is a sea of unsynchronised waves.
They don’t rise up in unison
Or fall together with grace; my waves Mexican-wave.

My mind is a room of incomplete art
I should write a novel, or compose a symphony.
Instead I paint songs

My heart is a wood of bluebells.
My soul, an Indian sky
But my mind is a sea of unsynchronised waves
Inside I’m painting songs

Bridget from Ireland

SENT IN BY willmeneke

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a seaman’s true ship
is the sea
he sails upon
an untamed power
of mystery
of moods
of a beauty
that will wash away
the sins
of the sailor
and lay him to rest
in its depths

Another life

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