December 24th Notebook Pieces

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Past 3 O’Clock
Still, the moon like 
frost across the bedroom 
we find the language
we spoke as 
when our minds
were open
and our hearts 
We hold hope within us,
like a little house
swelling with light
in the darkness
of a late 
December evening.
listening to the gentle sounds
of those I love
The candle 
in the window has made
a halo in the frost.
At one, two, three... nothing
Just the type of darkness
where memories are born.
Every hour
you come back to me,
soundless as snow 
in the noiseless dark.
Your ghost
passing in and out of the walls
as easy as you 
did my life.
The mind falls quiet
and travels the earth,
the troubles 
of the world
beyond the darkened
The world is still tonight,
the fields are white
and calm with 
Let us be true to one another,
as best as we're able.


◄ December 21st

Someone To Watch Over Me ►


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Alan Travis Braddock

Fri 11th Jan 2019 13:55

Poignant words, Tom, tenderly expressed.. Sorrow can bring out the best of poetry in the gifted - unfortunately. I expect that this is no consolation - but it may help at the time.

<Deleted User> (19913)

Wed 2nd Jan 2019 23:43

Exquisite Tom.

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John Marks

Wed 2nd Jan 2019 22:07

If brevity is truly the soul of wit your style, Tom, stretches a few words a long way. Your nod to Matthew Arnold's masterpiece of loss sent shivers up my spine - another haunting of one poet by another and me the ever-willing exorcist!

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

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Thu 27th Dec 2018 14:45

The essence of true poetry comes across as always - the senses set wide open to subtleties and never disappointed, Tom. A delicacy of feeling pervades it and touches the reader with a magic wand full of starshine.

I'll get my coat.


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Wolfgar Miere

Thu 27th Dec 2018 09:23

I've said it before Tom but with different words, you paint the most delicate of pictures your brush barely touching the canvas but just enough to waken memories and imaginings.

Whilst most of us struggle to do that it seems to be your constant MO.


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Hannah Collins

Wed 26th Dec 2018 14:21

Beautiful poetry.


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Douglas MacGowan

Tue 25th Dec 2018 01:38

I can feel a sense of coziness after reading this piece.

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