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Ernestine Northover

Sombre Days

Life can hit you right between the eyes,
Knocking you back, so you must start again,
From the beginning one must bravely rise,
And try to see the sunshine through the rain.

The wind that blows nobody any good,
Is buffeting me, so I no longer think
In a coherent way, it's like a hood
Thrown over my weary head, and so I sink.

Why do we have to bear these sombre days
Of sorrow, one needs happiness and peace;
We suffer hurt in many tragic ways,
And clamour for some measure of release.

When one has lost someone so very dear,
It's hard to face the world with confidence,
But one thing stands out very sharp and clear,
So painful is the final severance.

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Evening's Dusk

Evening’s dusk, eerie forebodings,
Making one feel so insecure,
Blotting out distance, shapes of things,
Creating a scene, too obscure,
Shadows that hide the strange unknown,
Lurking when you are out alone.

Evening’s dusk creeps across the sky,
Twelve hours of night has just begun.
Moon hanging motionless up high,
Reflecting light, from earth’s own sun,
Lighting darkness with borrowed rays,
Lifting the black in many ways.

Evening’s dusk, rest for man, not beast,
Off to our homes, we go to rest,
All the days noise has slowly, ceased,
Animals though are on a quest,
For their nuptials they find at night,
When humans are well out of sight.

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His Artistic Brush

A model sits motionless with diaphanous drape,
The paint in tubes, lies waiting for an escape,
An easel's standing, so central to the room,
On it a canvas. And nearby in the gloom,
An Artist leans casually against an open door,
Been thinking long, but now crosses the floor,
Pulls back the blinds to let the light rush in,
Adjusts his spectacles and prepares to begin,
Then with a flourish of his artistic brush,
Starts slowly to create a picture that's so plush,
A Work of Art maybe, perhaps an important one,
Which might see his name in lights, when it is done.
Needing to observe, he lifts his eyes to peep,
And finds that his model has fallen fast asleep.

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The Right Bard

He never was there, he never did care,
He treated me contemptuously,
I thought now he'd gone, that I'd look upon,
This time, as a bonus, for me.

It's really quite sad, that a nice looking lad,
Just wasn't interested, you see,
Well never you mind, I shall very soon find,
Someone, who is single and free.

Now that might be hard, finding the right bard,
Who's thinking with mine, would agree,
There are hundreds of poets, and I very well know, it's
Just a matter of turning the key.

As long as he's kind, I could well be inclined,
To settle down with a great certainty,
And then with this mate, I could perhaps contemplate,
That two, could maybe, become three!

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The Proposal

Who will marry me, said the flea,
Why ever should I, said the fly,
I would willingly give you a hug, said the bug,
That would be nice, said the wood lice,
I could sit down beside her, said the spider,
Well I certainly can't, said the ant,
Well of course you can't, that's absurd, said the ladybird,
Whoever does will come a cropper, said the grasshopper,
I think one should take heed, said the centipede,
I wouldn't for a thousand quid, said the aphid,
She's got a tongue like a rasp, said the wasp,
Oh, I shall remain free, said the bee,
I think you're probably right, said the mite,
All I can say is, she's a killer, said the caterpillar,
She'll suck you dry!

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Her Shopping Expedition

She picked up the bags which contained all her shopping,
Trying to carry them along without dropping
The contents. Hoping the handles wouldn't give way,
Spreading her purchases around on display.

She managed as far as the bus rendezvous,
Then one handle snapped and then it was two,
And over the ground rolled, jars, tins and fruit,
Clattering noisily, as they travelled en route.

How embarrassing this sort of happening can be,
All you have bought, there, for the public to see,
And no one offering to help you collect,
Your shopping. She felt such an despondent reject.

Then out of the blue, a gallant young Bart,
Offered her his help, his hand, and his heart!

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Tints, Tones And Shades

Leaves trickling down from weeping trees,
tumbling along in sprightly dance.
Gathering in heaps, as swirls the breeze,
as if it is their only chance,
to show the world what they can do,
before the winter’s snow is due.

They live for but one single year,
from birth to death, so short a span.
And yet with verve they persevere,
pushing through bark as best then can,
blanketing well each branch they dress,
giving a show to so impress.

All earth’s colours, gold, greens and browns,
red, orange, yellow, rust and black.
Rich remnants of some wondrous gowns,
all strewn now on the hard tarmac.
Autumn in tints and tones and shades.
Splendour in colourful brocades.

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Reflecting

Reflecting on clouds that slowly creep,
Across the vast skies like woolly sheep,
The blues of heaven, the red sunset,
All sights that nobody can forget,
Sunshine and rain, crisp white frost and snow,
The softest breeze, and strong winds that blow,
Though I will gently doze, yet I may sleep,
For within your spirit my love you keep.

Reflecting on mighty oceans deep,
Stark mountains so craggy, tall and steep,
Valleys all filled with rich luscious green,
There’s such immense beauty to be seen,
But you are not here to see it too,
I can’t share these wondrous things with you,
You said not to cry though, nor will I weep,
For within my spirit your love I keep.


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Sweet Solace

Heart shaped stones held in one’s hands,
are so soothing to the touch,
Said to free our thoughts from stress,
As with fingers we caress
them. Each warming in one’s clutch.

With surfaces silky smooth,
they’re such very restful things.
Coloured in some varied hues,
Streaked with gold, and subtle blues,
Their presence sweet solace brings.

Gently turning them around,
on a moist and supple palm.
Clears the brain, ending worries,
Stop’s one’s odd nervous flurries,
leaving the whole body calm.

Clasping them, one’s inner soul’s
released from all its pressure.

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Kiss Me

Kiss me and make it seem better,
Kiss me and quiet my heart,
I never once asked for a letter,
Stating you wanted to part.

Kiss me and declare you were wrong dear,
Kiss me and confirm it's okay,
Say all those things that I so want to hear,
And wipe all my tears away.

Kiss me and let's stay together,
Kiss me and pour out the wine,
Sit with me on my sofa of leather,
And say that everything will be fine.

Kiss me and tell me you love me,
Kiss me with passion to spare,
Don't think of leaving, that is my plea
And also my ardent prayer.

[...] Read more

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