So senorita,
lay turkey under tinsel
and tell me, whose ashes are those?
Beyond the cracked urn
I can sniff Lori’s death as cocaine,
darling, my heart remains the
trampoline before your fatal fall
So senorita
I can hear your pulse behind the tapas
who was that man who left you alone in Wales?
Podria amarte?
could I ever….
there is another
a Mother for my
foster kids who survived cradle death
Too long sat beside graves
too long getting sun burnt
from the moon rainbow,
I have drowned from being a life astronaut
And I love her
tender as unborn roses in December snow
and I love her
Dear R,
For me, in this moment I feel as though in this write, I can hear and feel the pain of loss and missing someone so much every muscle hurts. It’s a beautiful piece of love and doing ones best to keep moving along. H 🌷
You are a diamond H. I just wish you believed in yourself a liitle bit more. Of course I have moved on, but I still climb into an empty bed. Someone whispered a secret to me – they told me Bruges is so romantic in the spring
What a Xmas day that was. My niece is so blonde and attractive and some twat couldn’t keep his hands to himself. No one, and I mean no one, fucks with my family. He was a short little prick (and I never use height as a bully boy tactic) but boy, he got it. My Dad would have been proud of me. End of.
Nothing more to write Hon. xx
I’m a sucker for people who split Spanish and English.
So this write was a pleasant surprise!
The whole poem is a gem but the ending is perfection:)
Merry Christmas 🎄
Si. Lol. You and your partner in crime mean so much to me. Thank you A
Let it out, Rob. The grief subsides, but the hole remains. We try to find a corner of our soul to store such things in, because they aren’t going away. So, we adjust. Writing is and always will be a tonic for us. You make a good medicine man.
I had a horrible habit of sticking up for anyone that needed it, back in the day. All the younger years of fighting my brother, I didn’t realize at first how good I was at it. Nowadays I have to be smarter. I’m older, etc. But… LOL
I loved your write. The capacity to find the words to convey your thoughts isn’t always easy. But you found a way, with a great result. Write on.
You totally get me Mark. I’m 56 now and do I ever learn? Probably not. I have a huge scar over my eye and my dear Mam always told me to look in the mirror and learn. God love her, but I never did. Welsh Rob