Angry Words Hurt.
Diamond hard with sharp and bladey edge, at each thrust
As anger twists the fiery words' serrated steel,
It undertakes to bring it's victim to the dust.
Anger achieves, but leave anger well alone.
Fury hurts most those whom to fury are prone.
poem by Fay Slimm
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Living In Memory.
The air is thick with remembered pleasures.
Is alive with memory's trained sightings.
Where tho' is the lovelight we both treasured?
Hiding in unforgiveness, ...... and blighted.
We had the present as future.... Now passed
Over as unwanted gain, it painfully
Reminds the hot tears not to fall any faster.
Love only lives now down memory lane.
poem by Fay Slimm
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Wishing You Spring.
For all the splendours of winter
Which accost the eye
With sparklings of white flaky
Frost-fairies lighting the sky,
I still wish you Spring.
For then earth bursts with passion.
Births abundantly
In multitudes. As life-force
Spills, feasting to redundance,
Yes - I wish you Spring.
Fragranced delight inspires love.
Blood heats, as soil, when
Faced with pulsating urges
To blossom, so once again
I will wish you - - Spring.
poem by Fay Slimm
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Fanciful
Peace,
hunter of dreams, stalking love's castles,
find me.
Faith,
fisher of smiles, pursuing love's ballads,
catch me.
Hope,
trapper of wishes, tracking love's magic,
cage me.
For to you,
gunless dream hunters,
netless smile fishers and
hookless wish trappers
[...] Read more
poem by Fay Slimm
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Word Of Autumn.
The colder wind today brought word of change.
With Autumn on its way soft blossoms shrink.
Berries dropp their plump hued heads in phases,
And shorter days pull Autumn to its brink.
The sun sheds less its brightness in full streams.
Pine trees sigh, branching closer to the ground.
Early morning grass recalls frosty dreams.
Autumn hunkers closer with autumn sounds.
Light hearth's cosy warmth, pull covers higher.
One of Autumn's blessings is a blazing fire.
poem by Fay Slimm
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Soul Music.
Whispering songs of romance
You won me to your melody,
Which now breathes a symphony
Within my soul. My heart dances
To your faraway raphsody
As summer-song music, dreaming
Down time's corridors, feeds me
With shining star-sound. Themes
Of musical dance sweep my mind
Clean. Clear from sad moodiness
I thrill to your music in rhyme.
Joining the chorus, distance
Frightens no more, music's the thing
That from now on cements romance.
Soul music is making me sing.
poem by Fay Slimm
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Foxglove Force
Appearing in June, trumpeted lances
Rise like fine swords fencing for room, daylight
Shines on pink blooms strung around serried ranks
Of foxgloves, belying valiant fights
Wrought boldly in darkest earth for release
Before this, - but June is the month rightly
Assigned for hegerow lining of niches
Frilled with upright military show.
Thrusting displays now blossom away, trying
To reach for the sky. Why, without knowing,
Do foxgloves break ranks, disperse and then die?
poem by Fay Slimm
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A Day in the life of a Child
Cheeks dimpling
Two eyes gleam
Lips parting.
Baby's smiling.
Nose crinkling
Red mouth curls
Eyes are twinkling.
Baby's clowning.
Toes gripping
Two knees bend.
Feet are moving,
Baby's walking.
Mind wandering,
Gaze intense,
[...] Read more
poem by Fay Slimm
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Summer Starts Here.
Summer sings loud round a table with friends.
Amid much welcoming, with well-earned fruitage,
Summer laboured, now laced with unending
Smiles.and wine-loosened tongues which reduces
Every familiar face to chuckling grins.
Hot, priceless days mean memories made again.
The summer always starts here. My glass raised
In salute to hard-working hands, I begin
A shy speech, but am stemmed at my praises
For countless kind times enjoyed round this hearth
So I quietly sit - - and let summer start.
poem by Fay Slimm
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April's Away.
All too soon the countryside,
Now fresh greened and sprouting more
Than spring, looks out for wider
Room, shakes it's newborn blossoms
Then ushers April to the door.
And April's away.
No longer teenage, Flora's
Grown maturer now, slightly
Deeper hued, flowers adorning
Every late spring bough, while
April, already pale, turns white,
Then April's away.
Heated by more ardent sun,
Hedgerows must have stronger feed.
Palid from work early done
April leaves, - makes way for May
To ensure Flora has her needs
Now April's away.
poem by Fay Slimm
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