For Paul who is missing his estranged daughter


Clouds gathering

not the lazy drifting

feather floating

clouds that I have come to love

but a tumult of thunderheads

a boil of molton lead

energy laden

burden heavy

explosion ready

rapidly closing the gap

of the final glimps of summer blue

the glimpse of what was

the glimpse of what cannot be

of birds that cannot fly

of love that cannot die

closing the gap

laying the trap

that could end in self  destruct

or tempering the steel.






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Dorothy Webb

Tue 19th Feb 2019 10:46

Thank you Jason for your comment and jennifer and Anya for the likes,

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Jason Bayliss

Mon 18th Feb 2019 23:27

"A tumult of thunderheads, a boil of molten lead."
Dorothy, I absolutely love this but that line is my favourite of many.😀

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