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winter (Remove filter)

Dead Leaves

Dead Leaves

 

You once grew green

On lofty branches

Defiant against the clouds

Fluttering in the breeze

But now the tree has gone

Just a pale ghost of memory

And the sky is dominant

In my front windows

 

Your first death was brittle

Old man skeleton scratching

Whipping up your decline

In whorls of frustration

And when the rain came

Like falling tears

...

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leavesdeathwinternegative personagebitterness

ðə króz ləmɛ́nt

ðə króz ləmɛ́nt

 

(tékən frə́m ‘the bʊ́k ə́v crows’)

 

kró stǽnd ən fíld

sɪ́ŋ kró sɔ́ŋ

tú hjúmən ɪ́r

sáwnd rɔ́ŋ

 

koww koww koww

 

kró blǽk ə́v wɪ́ŋ

kró blǽk ə́v bón

kró blǽk ə́v hárt

kró só əlón

 

áj hǽd brə́ðər blǽk

bə́t brə́ðər blǽk ɪ́z gɔ́n

tékən báj ðə wɪ́ntər

hɪ́r máj sǽd kró sɔ́ŋ

 

“stick mǽn

...

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crowcrows of albionthe book of crowswinterdeathreaper

Back To The Park

Back To The Park

 

It’s mid July,

a summer’s day.

School is just

a memory away.

We lay on grass

and watch the sky

and count the clouds

as they pass by.

We talk of bands

we’d like to see -

Led Zeppelin, Quo,

Sabbath and Free.

Insects buzz,

a distant bark,

children playing

In the park.

You turn to me

and kiss my lips

and move in close,

h...

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lovelossdeathsummerwintermemories

Cold Hearted

Cold Hearted

 

the calming time

cotton wool squeak

beneath my feet

the air

crisp with cold

crystal palaces

cut from ice

nose and mouth

streaming mist

vivid blue sky

the lake cupped

by mountain hands

in a caring gesture

frozen feet deep

covered with snow

 

the calming time

distant voices

carried on a

biting breeze

cheeks frost rouged

...

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lake louisewintermemorieslovethe titanic didn't crash here but it feels so cold

A Wee Dram

A Wee Dram

The dancing flames lick gently at the grate,
a bottle splashes amber to the glass,
soft chimes reminding that the hour is late,
aromas drift of peat and harsh deer grass,
the smoky mist of morning, with each pass.
The glow of bonfires as I gently kiss,
letting the rich swelling flavours amass
and burn upon my lips, no thoughts but this –
“how can something so bitter bring suc...

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spenserian sonnetsonnetwhiskyscottish whiskyheatwintergood cheer

Snowblind

SNOWBLIND

 

Like a pristine field of snow

you glare back at me and I know

that even with the greatest will

I’ll never get the words to spill

upon your virgin gown.

 

I want to smudge the ashes of my dreams

upon your frigid, frozen streams

that when the summer sun’s aglow

lap gently with a lazy flow

caressing inspiration from my brow.

 

My ...

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writers blockfrustrationwinter

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