Thank you, Penny. You are an amazing friend and truly wonderful person!
I love poetry (if you know me in real life, this is nothing new to you). What I love most is how in a few words the author can evoke an image that us painters of prose take pages to express. I also love how, like songs, they compliment a memory or story within your head. This poem in particular made me think so strongly of Kiki and James. Thanks, Beth!
Sometimes Bad Penny takes a time out and is just Sweet Beautiful Soulful Penny. Check it out!
I’m sitting under our favorite tree
I wondering if you’re thinking of me
I’ve thought about nothing else since you went away
You plague my life day after, day after day.
I think about how you used to hold my hand
And how you always thought my jokes were so grand
I think about the time we went to Paris
We had a great trip, despite your brother Harris
I remember the way you looked after a long, hard day
You knew I’d always be there to assure you, it’s okay
I thought you’d always be here too
Your being gone leaves me without a clue
I sometimes smell a faint memory of your scent
I know it’s not possible, but I hope it’s you leaving me a hint
I thought it would get easier as time passed by
I miss coming home…
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A nice little poem from my friend Penny. Her blog is 18+ so follow the link only if, like me, you are an openminded person.
I know I frighten you
I know you care
I know you want to know me
But you don’t dare
I want you to talk to me
I want you to share
I know I can’t ask you
It wouldn’t be fair
Maybe One Day you’ll dare
Maybe One Day you’ll share
Maybe One Day it’ll be fair
Maybe One Day…
A sad but very beautiful poem…
As some of you may know, a little of my heart died last Thursday with the passing of my Mother, Joyce Molyneux. She was a formidable woman, born in Plumstead at the start of the war. Later, fate took her into London’s East End, where she raised eight children, including me.
It’s impossible to fully honor a woman who touched the hearts of so many. I am not a poet, but I wrote something this morning which represents a small tribute to an exceptional woman. Heathcliff called Kathy his heart’s darling. At last, I know exactly what that means. God bless you, Mum.
YOU WERE PERFECT
You were perfect. You were you.
Others saw imperfections, I saw uniqueness.
The gifts you were given you used to the full,
Your capacity for love, poured out into your children,
And passed in time from them to theirs.
You were fruitful. You…
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