Feather

The old pond
A frog jumps in
Splash

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A Memory Deep Down Within My Soul

I had a penny,
A bright new penny,
I took my penny
To the market square.
I wanted a rabbit,
A little brown rabbit,
And I looked for a rabbit
‘Most everywhere.

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Time’s Winged Chariot

What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?
Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.

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Twins

Being chewed up in the crucible of Love.

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The Sea Of Love

The poem ‘The Path’ by Hans Stolp has spoken to me for a few years. I didn’t realise how many paths there would be.

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