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Calendars

Looking back, we remark upon another year

crammed with readings, poetry festivals,

am dram rehearsals, show weeks.

The illustrations? Jaunty railway

posters, preferably from the 1930s,

views of promenade and coast for you,

moors and uplands for me,

awash with confident colours.

Life begins at 60? Too true!

 

Looking forward, an older woman,

us before too long,  

...

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Tags: Calendars

The islands of Stockholm

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Water, water, bridges everywhere.

In the old town, close

to the pantomime sentries and cannons,

at the scaffolding-clad royal palace,

a museum of high ideals, the Nobel prize.

Einstein, Mandela, Solzhenitsyn, Mother Teresa.

Nearby a hall of fame dedicated

to a band that made the world smile.

Benny and Frida, Bjorn and Agnetha,

wearing their lurid, ludicrous outfits

wi...

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Tags: Abba,Stockholm,Sweden

To My Unknown Soldier

I hope these help to keep you safe.

Are you lonely at the front?

You have your pals, along the trenches.

And we have ours, inside the factory.

The laughs we have, us girls.

I didn’t mean, that kind of lonely.

 

That’s why I’m slipping my note

inside this box of ammo,

which, I hope, protects you.

It’s funny. Though we’ve never met

and maybe never will, I often

th...

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Tags: First world war

Snapshots

You mourn old photographs:

‘I was pretty then, and I never knew it.’

 

I’ve just filled an album

with our last pieces of paper

before digital took over:

It includes my mother’s 80th birthday

(she just missed out on 90).

A fabulous, tearful, joyous Sikh wedding,

dancing to the bhangra boy’s beat,

the marriage lasting little more

than a year. That holiday in Sorrento...

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Tags: Photographs

Plain Man's Valentine

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By Frank Jaye

 

You’ll get no Valentine from me; I’m not the type,

Pallid daffodils prematurely delivered – all that transatlantic hype.

I am not easy with love, be it concept, verb or noun,

My sentiments are more mundane and wear a plainer crown,

Embellished with affection, encouragement, respect not least,

You moderate my temper, rising still like yeast.

 

Maturity has...

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Tags: Valentine poem

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Cynthia Buell Thomas on Calendars (2 days ago)

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