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Maggie Munro

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Do I miss you more?
Your words absent
Hollow space on white page
Where our love
Unwritten, denies all being.

Do I miss you more?
Your words painting
Masterpiece of passion
Where our love
Unveiled, reveals its truth.

Could I miss you more?
The silence falls
Etched beneath life's vellum
Where once love
Unrestrained, bloomed vivid hue.

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Damage Control

The first day sings sublimely in his mind,
standing on the honed blade of her smile.
She permeates each niche of his desire,
brazen joys which better sense denies.
Open, inviting, welcoming to him alone,
admiring, passionate, indulging every whim.
The cut is powerful and deep.
Inexorably, she supplants his past,
purging truth, injecting toxic memory,
expunging all to graft her potent scion,
an impossible, unviable future
into the cleft of his fragile heart.
Could the time be already past,
for salvaging what tangled shreds
of all his yesterdays remain?

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Seeing Red

She wakes, with hot emotion streaming
warm and wet, across one rosy cheek.
Slowly reason rises, tears subside,
for many times does bitter obligation
steal joy away to pour its stream of sand
carelessly through those indifferent hands.

Her sunrise aches to draw one curtain closed,
to veil the room in softened honey light,
to listen for the peals of morning laughter.
His jacket slung aside in playful haste,
entwined bodies dancing, kindling kisses,
pleasure writhing, wreathed in sweet delight.

She breathes, her hot emotion waning,
anger draining, quiet acceptance rising.
So many days,
so many very ordinary days
to wait and live and work and sleep,
and give way to someone else,

[...] Read more

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The Ripening

I picture you,
opening the door,
walking up the orchard rows,
in the caramel of evening light.
A giant's shadow peers at you
from in between the trees,
trudging silently with you
as you lift the sun-warm fruit,
cup in one work-seasoned hand
an apple, rich and scarlet ripe.

I picture you,
opening your door,
treading the dew drenched grass,
the raucous song of wattle birds
spritzing the crisp dawn air.
Your hands busied at the basket
gently placing, one by one,
harvest fixed by darkness chill,
all glossy, sweet and unblemished.

[...] Read more

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Natural History

Lowered eyes, every footfall soundless,
bony shoulders rise and fall as pistons
And strike! Death is delivered,
the quarry stilled in an instant.

Jaws clench on feathers, bone and sinew
Whiskered muzzle nudges aside the door
Huzzar! A gift of feline adoration;
You somehow seem to be displeased?

Deep beneath that languid silky coat
combed, luxuriant, the colour of disdain,
Who cares! Back upright, regal, tail flickers,
ears flatten, craving words of praise.

Here they come, 'Not the budgie! ! ! ! '
The chase is on! Feathers, fingers, fur and claw,
Outside! The little lifeless scrap of blue retrieved,
A reproachful yellow stare fixes you.

[...] Read more

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Right Here Right Now

Today
There is no need for you to visit me
I can change light bulbs, tap washers and flat tyres.
Take out the garbage, mow the lawn and trim the edges
I can pay my own debts, sand and paint the house
Choose new clothes without a second opinion
Visit mum without calling for reinforcements
I can split firewood, put up a tent, read a map,
Bury a dead cat, argue with the telephone company
And open my own bottle of sparkling white wine
I don't need you

Today
There is no need for me to visit you.
You can keep up house, with spotless polished floors,
Bathrooms gleaming brightly, all is neat and tidy.
You grasp the supermarket trolley with unnatural joy,
Happily selecting the best in pantry and produce,
And can buy your own socks and unmentionables.
You can even throw the old ones out without getting upset,

[...] Read more

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