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Just This Once For You

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Just This Once For You, And Only You

     A day is only little,
People walk, talk, eat and contemplate,
     quicken expectations or, hang every
moment on a hopeful obsession,

A day, gathers dust in Africa,
     tethers homes of Eskimo within
snow-like cocoons of inner sanctuary,
     where the ruddy glow of smiling
children quickens my envy – heart,

A day, can see a mountain shadow -
     or mourned for loss of temper that
has the climber – glinted eye,

     a day………….do you not yet know I am in love with you!

A day, can tend a jug be filled with water
     from a brook that never loses memory or
journey, that feeds a village ‘kind.’

     How kind a benevolent can be,
where still there are those humbled by
their richness that never owns a purse,
     humbled yet upon an ownership of

     I see the day, and if said glinted eye remains,
then upon the tallest you may find me seized
upon the view of blues and greens and kindred kind -
that do upon their best;– each second a memory in
movement that never ever loses pace.

A day, is little to do but make the change on
          every hour to fill the album with
all content owned by love,

     ‘but the night my heart, the night my golded fascination -
for abrupt the chest did swell -
     with pride for longer than I ventured;
          the night is vast and empty without you here within my arms.'

Michael J Waite 15th of January 2022. Dedicated to my wife Nomalungelo Zinhle………….. I love you.



Bottle of wine and a warm hearth, just for effect.







◄ Move Away From The Pain

Magnification (again) ►


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