And when the flowers die,

Leaving empty space in air

That once their perfume filled.

When colour,

Vital as life itself,

Departs my eyes for good,

My thoughts return to hedgerows.

Wandering fields from whence love began,

And I will hold your hand, even in death.

◄ Haiku: Chilled

Fever ►


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Robert Mann

Fri 19th Jan 2018 11:04

Martin - Glad that you like it mate. Thanks for saying so.

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Martin Elder

Thu 18th Jan 2018 20:36

Really beautiful this one Rob. I particularly love the lines referring to the hedgerows and wandering fields.

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Robert Mann

Thu 18th Jan 2018 13:22

David - thanks very much. This piece made me cry when I read it back - must have some emotions after all !!

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Wolfgar Miere

Thu 18th Jan 2018 12:55

As almost always Rob, you come in like a ghost and leave us with a sense of something heartfelt, honest and touchingly moving.

This is you at your best in my opinion, lovely writing.


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