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  Apr 2020 Ana Sweeney
lash12
Wild Strawberries in your hands,
red like your lipstick
We walk in the trail
we walk and we slip
but we always hold hands
I feel you so warm  when i hold you.

A music live with thousand people in it and
only in you i feel the warmness

In the beginning of the song i touch and caress you shyly
in the same time i am looking at you.
In the mid-song you hold my hand and we are dancing .

We laughing and that s how we stay alive.
Red from the laugh like wild strawberries.
  Apr 2020 Ana Sweeney
Andrew
It’s a crazy world but
Somebody has to live in it.
  Apr 2020 Ana Sweeney
FullmoonFlower
#1
Love is
someone who cares about
your wounds,
not someone that
adds salt to them.
  Apr 2020 Ana Sweeney
Pagan Paul
Eyelids flicker, close again.
Then slowly part allowing focus.
The morning welcomes sleepy eyes
and a window beckons.
Light streams through
and the view is of Spring.

The sun up in the sky
brilliant and ablaze with life.
From one horizon to another
clear blue light hangs,
lazily draping the world
and not a vapour trail in sight.

Silence is no longer a pause
between bursts of open noise,
rather, noise is an intruder
hectoring the moments of peace.
Until the sleep dirt clears
and the chorus of birds singing
is in harmony with serenity,
complimenting the absence of sound.

Different light in hidden places
shine a hue of emerald green,
flecked with orange and yellow,
single rays of playful sunshine.
The streams of brilliance persist
like the radiance of a palette,
if the painter is Mother Nature
and the picture is crystal clear.

And sleep though only minutes gone
is a forgotten rest memory.
The dreams faded and passed on,
given free, as a gift to the night.


© Pagan Paul (25/03/20)
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  Apr 2020 Ana Sweeney
Jenny Hindmarch
Early morning forest trees
tinted pale gold and peach
with chiffon mist glaze
Icy tipped scented lime
Crackle edge, crisp flight
raven blending into the edge
of breathy clouds
Undergrowth hum
and silence, overlapping lines
Swift sight of burnish
fox flame crunch and swish
winnow of wood sun flare flow
layered amber folding through the gold
Winter flings her cloak and flies
Ana Sweeney Apr 2020
Unplug the clocks.
Time is non-existent
Awake all night, tormented
With thoughts of the chaos
Both within and without,
Until it’s 5am and the birds
Arise, taunting me with the
Bittersweet melody of their
Chorus which commences at
Dawn, reminding me it’s time
To begin my own daily performance.
Ana Sweeney Apr 2020
It’s day... I don’t ******* know anymore.
Locked indoors 23 hours of the day
A one hour slot to feel like a human again
Is this what prison feels like?
I’ve been trapped for so long
The four walls of my bedroom declared me insane last night
How much longer can I last?
I don’t ******* know anymore.
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