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153 · Feb 2021
resounding
sheila sharpe Feb 2021
Your face, your smile, before my eyes
your voice constantly whispering in my ears
bewilderment, anger, despair, tears
resounding, repeating, needing release
149 · Nov 2020
coldly, oh so coldly
sheila sharpe Nov 2020
coldly, oh so coldly
he told her that she was
no longer the love of his life
but that did not anything explain
as her tears felt like rain
for she still could only relate
to being forever his wife
for she could not shrug off that inescapable fact
that the engine of her love still turned
and that she still held a torch for him
and that the love that she bore for him
still deep within her burned
142 · Jun 2020
Full of relief
sheila sharpe Jun 2020
I am hungry for I am empty
since you left me
empty of hope and belief
I know nothing now but uncertainty,
yet everything of heartache, misery and grief
the book of my life has too many pages
dog-eared and damp
with the tears of loneliness
wrinkled by the gnawing of fear
yellowed by the scorching of inclement rages
for peace is a stranger, an alien conception
for I, who desire nothing more
than to feel full of relief
139 · May 2021
Golden Skies
sheila sharpe May 2021
When the day ends and the sun sets
in glowing sky above a gilded sea
if we were rich you and I, my darling
this is where I would want us to be
away from this dark world
where sometimes it seems
there are tatters of broken dreams
like baleful banners unfurled
so take me into your arms my darling
and love me, wipe my eyes
and subdue my sighs
and let us lie together beneath
these golden skies
137 · Nov 2020
She was his
sheila sharpe Nov 2020
She was his
her eyes fixed upon his needs
expressed in his face
she was his
transfixed
her first glance upon awakening
her last glance before uneasy sleep
She was his
his voice enslaving her
the soft wheedling
the ugly commands disguised
She was his
his hands caressing
his fingers raking her soft, soft skin
She was his
his mind enclosing
enrapturing
her soul
deep within
control
136 · Jun 2020
Stay
sheila sharpe Jun 2020
My Love, stay with me until
my arms cannot hold you
my eyes cannot return your smile
my heart beats its final goodbye
then, keep me close in your heart
sheila sharpe Jun 2021
Do you see me soar above you?
do you hear the pulse of my wings
do you see the beauty of my feathers
where the dew of healing clings

Do you taste with me the scent of clouds
that carry a Tempest's rain
Do you feel with me the refugees
who suffer poverty and pain

Do you see the great high mountains
the valley, glen and dale
do you see the vast grey oceans
where the ships in beauty sail

Come with me on my journey
you can do so in your mind
forget the shores of unrest
and leave them far behind

See the iced Antarctica
the bergs that fill the sea
see the mighty Jungles where
nature struggles to roam free

See the blackened Ocean depths
where oil its stain has spilled
see the empty African plateaus
where all wildlife has been killed

Now say for me a heartfelt prayer
take the healing from each wing
lift your voices O my brothers
and my Sisters, come and sing!
Nature
133 · Apr 2021
Do you ever remember
sheila sharpe Apr 2021
do you ever remember
who once we were
when we were young
what laughter we shared
what songs we sung
you whose hands I hold
grown suddenly old
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
Early morning
Early morning is where both moon and poet unite
both in seeing and bringing into this world their light


The greedy sun
As the greedy sun peels back orange horizons
the hungry poet licks lips, and savours imagination
131 · Jun 2020
I fall
sheila sharpe Jun 2020
I fall
down through the dark mists of grief
it's shadows closing about me
extending my arms to memories
I need now to be corporeal
to hold me close
to stay my fall
to restore all
that is lost
that is past
with no conditions
let me land
on Terra Firma
not on the stormy waves
of heartache
131 · Dec 2020
Love is ...
sheila sharpe Dec 2020
Love is the arm that warms you
on a cold, wet, Winter’s night
Love is the memory of his face
in her heart when he is out of sight
Love is the arms that reach out
to help someone in need
Love is the old and trembling hand
that yet nurtures a tiny seed
Love is the smile on a Mother’s face
when her child lies in her arms
Love is the force that drives a
Lover into those waiting arms
Love is the golden rings
that upon her finger glow
Love is reading the letters
that he penned so long ago
Love is cherishing those memories that
can overcome grief
Love is - quite simply -belief
131 · May 2021
Colours of evening
sheila sharpe May 2021
At the Lake's edge at evening we stood
where emerald lay the grasses
and the sun shone red as blood
where a jay with it's flash of turquoise
sewed a seam at the edge of our view
and crystal swans swam upon
waters of lapis lazuli blue
where a fox in a squirm of russet
slunk to the woodland dim
and black coot chicks with their diamonds of white
paddled mid dun reed rim
then homeward we walked where the pile of stones
in black pyramid loomed on high
and a crescent moon bent its silver horns
in pale homage to indigo sky
130 · Jul 2020
For far too long ....
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
Too important are the words I long to say to you
for far too long do they lie buried in my heart
so why do they only surface from the lake of
my subconsciousness when we are far apart?

Why do such things stand like crumbling landmarks
that life's time and tide can wash too swiftly away
why can I go and buy you gifts and yet still
find hardest all those words that I need to say?

And why, when those words do erupt like molten magma
why, when my face, my eyes, my desperation betray
do those who should listen, not just stare at me
blank their eyes and turn dismissively away?

I should be allowed to tell of my own heartache
for is it not there in my dreams, and in my very soul
so why when I open the book of my revelations
can you not stay, not listen, not make me whole?

Let me tell you how I feel, let you not my secret
heartaches, my secret dreams deny or steal
fix upon me your eyes, listen to the words I tell
and then, only then will you truly know me well
130 · Dec 2020
You, my Astronaut Amore
sheila sharpe Dec 2020
You, my Astronaut Amore
guided me through a Universe of Dreams
avoiding the black hole of lovelessness
life suddenly held more than it first seemed
As willing Co-Pilot, I gave you my heart
to steer, never wanting you to be empty-handed
yet you chose to fly solo
leaving me stranded
129 · Apr 2021
The darkness of Me
sheila sharpe Apr 2021
Just maybe darkness is better than light
for they, the wild and animate ghouls
that desire your soul merely stalk
and softly growl but do not bite
surely darkness is better than light
being a shield that you can hide behind
a barrier beyond which the anxious onlookers
cannot peer, and so pierce, your clouded mind
surely darkness is better than light
light that too much reveals
light that shows the stains of life
that darkness so well conceals
they are multitude those night things
the arachnid spinning a web of dark comfort
the moth that shreds the brains dead cells
with softly soothing wings
the centipede sweeping away negative thoughts with swift legs
the unseen bird that cries, that for peace and comfort begs
surely darkness is better than light
a harsh and unforgiving light
where the stranded vessel carrying your dreams
is forever fixed in a glacial world of wicked white
sheila sharpe Dec 2020
His brown eyes and my blue eyes met
in recognition  across expanse of grass
smile invited smile and even the fairground's
raucous music paused for a heartbeat's while
as time was suspended and swing boats
seemed to stop upon the upward swing, and
in my heart a flock of butterflies took wing

The sun pierced that young heart unsure as yet
of love and it's challenges that must be met
and awakened in me a dream of something
as full of promise as his smile wide and warm
yet fleeting as butterflies in shimmering swarm

And I felt as if a glistening pearl was formed and
held in the as yet unfathomed ocean of my soul
and all that day carried it around as if in a crystal glass
wanting, needing, to keep it forever untarnished and whole
129 · Aug 2020
She was his
sheila sharpe Aug 2020
She was his
her eyes fixed upon his needs
expressed in his face
she was his
transfixed
her first glance upon awakening
her last glance before uneasy sleep
She was his
his voice enslaving her
the soft wheedling
the ugly commands disguised
She was his
his hands caressing
his fingers raking her soft, soft skin
She was his
his mind enclosing
enrapturing
her soul
deep within
126 · Jun 2020
She was a blank slate
sheila sharpe Jun 2020
He watched her
He knew She was a blank slate
upon which he could write
an easy target to keep fixed in his sight
the bullets of his control hit her one by one by one
until he could see through her to project
the insidious gleam of his dark sun

His control made
a full fathomed mine of her soul
for his mind was the centre of
his self perceived Universe
he enslaved her until
he had stolen all of her self control

She withered until she was a mere husk
her mind dissolved by his poison
until she was nothing
until she was no longer whole
126 · Jul 2020
first glance invites
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
first glance invites
the lowered eyes
the tentatively touching finger tips
evokes in brush of lips to lips
a whispering exhalation
skin to skin then initiates
a wuthering inhalation
but then is the line crossed
from innocent blush
from fleeting first glance
gathering
to
suffocating
all embracing
obsession
and  possession
125 · Jul 2020
I stare at you
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
I stare at you through the foliage of everyday life
the thorns, the blossoms, the moss that carpets all
I am the wild thing that lives in every girl and woman
I have bloomed throughout the years of heartache
of happiness, of all that enriches the world and self
125 · Dec 2020
Time, his beloved features.
sheila sharpe Dec 2020
Time, his beloved features.
with its restless hands has re-arranged
but still, the love that I feel for him
remains constant and unchanged
love
125 · Jul 2020
Florence
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
With her lamp, she lit the faces of the soldiers
with her care and her concern and her love
for Florence Nightingale was simply an angel
sent down to Earth from Heaven above

She did not flinch from those terrible wounds
nor from the wounded ones' gangrenous smell
She simply did what the Lord in Heaven told her
gave of her love,. and cared for them well

She had been born into the Gentry
so knowing only riches and wealth
yet she cared so little for her status
just simply for others welfare and health

Now, this whole dark world over
the symbol of her lamp still glows
for wherever, whenever, one sees a Nurse
one sees the love and dedication they show

In all war torn countries, and amid deep poverty
and where now the dark Corona holds sway
still the light that Florence held glows brightly
so turning the darkest nighttime into day

So remember them, as we fall into sleep each night
so remember them when morning's sun brings light
and hold in your hearts and minds their example
supreme, of courage and of love that shines so bright
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
Don't be afraid of being left on the shelf
Trust me, don't be afraid of being left on the shelf
For, if born of nothing but the needy love of self
love itself can swiftly become such a selfish thing
when loneliness and passion together take wing

For thus it is that Love is a complicated *******
for it often seeks out that uncomplicated yearning
and then turns it into a thing of so little substance
signifying nothing, and thoughtless, never learning

it assumes many forms, from starlings whirling swarms
to the sweet bluebirds that soft songs so sweetly sing
and white swans that seem the epitome of love so true
all these avian jesters can make a twitching fool of you

Take advice, do not a perch provide when this creature
seeks out a lonely heart in which to settle, roost and hide
for it will so swiftly spread out its darkly feathered wings
and fill your unsuspecting heart with all manner of things

Its fervid fetid feathers of passion will choke your soul
Its probing beak of jealousy will swiftly break your heart
this winged thing called love is a complicated *******
for, born of passions carrion, it will slowly tear you apart
122 · Jun 2020
For far too long ....
sheila sharpe Jun 2020
Too important are the words I long to say to you
for far too long do they lie buried in my heart
so why do they only surface from the lake of
my sub consciousness when we are far apart?

Why do such things stand like crumbling landmarks
that life's time and tide can wash too swiftly away
why can I go and buy you gifts and yet still
find hardest all those words that I need to say?

And why, when those words do erupt like molten magma
why, when my face, my eyes, my desperation betray
do those who should listen, not just stare at me
blank their eyes and turn dismissively away?

I should be allowed to tell of my own heartache
for is it not there in my dreams, and in my very soul
so why when I open the book of my revelations
can you not stay, not listen, not make me whole?

Let me tell you how I feel, let you not my secret
heartaches, my secret dreams deny or steal
fix upon me your eyes, listen to the words I tell
and then, only then will you truly know me well
121 · Jun 2020
Alone
sheila sharpe Jun 2020
alone
and silently, internally, she screams
for she knows better than to betray her pain
else the neighbours might hear her
might tell him
or he might see her face tear stained
and will take, as always
his anger, his disappointment
with himself
diluted by
a bottle
a glass
a can
and that lack of these
will precipitate once again
the blackened eyes
the inward tears
the bruised skin
all of those outward signs
that she would once again
have to skilfully disguise
so her scream continues silently
stifled to the world outside
dying to a silent
whimper
as she watches the clock
and waits
for his key
to turn almost silently
in the lock
120 · Jun 2020
Freedom is not.....
sheila sharpe Jun 2020
Freedom is not gathering in a public place
rather it is the ability to see the empty soul
behind the politician's public face
to stop our ears to Authority's soft cudgel'd speeches
and how to separate the wheat from the chaff
our bumbling so called leaders feed us every day
118 · Jun 2021
There
sheila sharpe Jun 2021
There, in grey depths of minds
enveloped in anxiety
subterranean fears arise

Flooded by tsunami's of fear
the little grey cells
die, clasped in Corona's
crustacean grasp

Author note
116 · Oct 2020
Words are crimson threads
sheila sharpe Oct 2020
Words are crimson threads spun by my pen
needling my woolly soul for expression,
each a stitch in Life's tapestry
my thoughts long and steely bodkins
I scatter words as sharp and shining pins
each sufficient to raise red upon
the flaccid fabric of empty minds
pinning ideas, often controversially
averse to neither comment nor complaint
I am a human wheel of spin,
pricking consciousness
threading with thought empty consciences
why I write
116 · Dec 2020
You pulse my heart
sheila sharpe Dec 2020
You pulse my heart with that smile
from the depths of your dark eyes
you fill my heart with a thousand
love saturated sighs
This whole world could be filled
with multitudes of angels all
singing in the same sweet voice
but I could not ever find anything more
beautiful than the company of you
in which I still rejoice
There are oceans out there
that I would swim to carry me back to you
there are forests through which I would walk
all through the night and into the
icy coldness of a frosty Winter’s day
clouds skimming across the Heavens
and birds winging on their ceaseless way
yet, all these would be nothing, nothing
if we ceased to continue loving
each other in that same, sweet way
114 · Jul 2020
As silken petals
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
as silken petals the butterflies  flutter
borne upon the gentle wind
colours vibrating
upward soaring
buttercups
violets
daisies
lilac blossoms
fleeing flora given wing
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
Do you see me soar above you?
do you hear the pulse of my wings
do you see the beauty of my feathers
where the dew of healing clings

Do you taste with me the scent of clouds
that carry a Tempest's rain
Do you feel with me the refugees
who suffer poverty and pain

Do you see the great high mountains
the valley, glen, and dale
do you see the vast grey oceans
where the ships in beauty sail

Come with me on my journey
you can do so in your mind
forget the shores of unrest
and leave them far behind

See the iced Antarctica
the bergs that fill the sea
see the mighty Jungles where
nature struggles to roam free

See the blackened Ocean depths
where oil its stain has spilled
see the empty African plateaus
where all wildlife has been killed

Now say for me a heartfelt prayer
take the healing from each wing
lift your voices O my brothers
and my Sisters, come and sing!
Life from an Eagle's viewpoint
114 · Jul 2020
His conscience
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
reserved
Her heart gaped open
for all the world to see
whilst his conscience
remained as firmly closed
as an unused rusty zip
113 · Jun 2020
You pulse my heart
sheila sharpe Jun 2020
You pulse my heart with that smile
shining from the depths of your dark eyes
your touch fills my body with the whisper
of a thousand trembling sighs
This whole world could be filled
with multitudes of angels all
singing in the same sweet voice
but I could not ever find anything more
beautiful than the company of you
in which I still rejoice
There are oceans out there
that I would swim to carry me back to you
there are forests through which I would walk
all through the night and into the
icy coldness of a frosty Winter’s day
white clouds skimming across the Heavens
and blue birds winging on their ceaseless way
yet, all these would be nothing, nothing
if we ceased to continue loving
each other in that same, sweet way
111 · Nov 2020
Days
sheila sharpe Nov 2020
Days run by like larva
cooled into deep black pools
within my subterranean heart
All I want is for the lockdown to end
so that we are no longer apart
lost love
110 · Jul 2020
Tell me ...
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
Tell me I am not forgotten
tell me that I have
a place in your heart
tell me that my face is
still in your mind’s eye
that our love
has not fallen apart

Tell me that you
will never leave me
that by my side
you will always stay
tell me that I am not praying in vain
just
please
do not go away
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
she owned a deep shining lustre
a truly translucent gem of a girl
laughing, glowing, headstrong
with her head always in a whirl
but his was the eye of an
angler keen, he cast his net
and swiftly he reeled her in
recognising barnacle tendencies
deep beneath that lustrous skin
His ******* was longing for her
fresh as an oyster she slipped down well
he swallowed her self confidence
and left her an empty shell
106 · Aug 2020
Survive
sheila sharpe Aug 2020
Survive
be careful
hunker down
avoid the streets
the people, the villages, the Cities, and the Towns
Keep yourself to yourself
avoid the daily news
let your thoughts be filled
with positiveness
find that which keeps you amused
remember the good times
when freedom was for all
listen only to the music that makes you feel good
listen not for the Grim Reaper's call
Keep your memories of your loved ones alive in your dreams
look from your window upon the world
for all is not as dark as it seems
there is still the rustle of the wind
that shakes the flowers and leaves
there is still the song of the evening bird
that shrills on the evening's breeze
there is still that kiss upon your brow
there are still the arms that hold you
there is still his voice that says "I love you"
There... don't you feel better now?
105 · Aug 2020
Brush with your lips
sheila sharpe Aug 2020
Brush with your lips
my questing finger tips
hold my breath
in a pulse of your heart
hear my voice in the echoes
of the summer scented breeze
and so never let us part
105 · Aug 2020
No Instant click
sheila sharpe Aug 2020
No instant click of a switch transforms a life
for life is but a late Summer's dawning
the unpredictable mixing of a storm
bright sun, dark clouds, rain's tears
and doubt's distant thunder's warning
sheila sharpe Oct 2020
There, in those final moments
I could say at last all of the things
that I could not say before
His eyes were closed,
his chest unmoving so it seemed
I could not tell whether he heard me
whether or not he listened
or simply dreamed

Gone was the smile that often
around his mouth would play
gone was the twinkle in his eye
gone the long words he'd often,
teasingly, whilst chuckling, say.

I had not known him for so many years
he was just a word in a dictionary
Father, Dad, Papa, call him what one may
I never really knew him
there were few chances
yes, there had been cards, letters
but sometimes he seemed
like just another person
distant, and far, too far, away

But, years later, I really got to know
this man, my Father,
the one I so resembled
as my Mother would often say
I learned that he, like me, loved words
how, again like me, he loved drawing
how, with puzzles, with riddles
he would often play

And, in those final moments
as he slipped into that distant, far off land
that was when I kissed him on his forehead
and held, for the first and final time
his flaccid, for once penless, hand
for my Father
104 · Nov 2020
close your eyes
sheila sharpe Nov 2020
close your eyes to nightmares
that pause your breath with fear
as they beat out a fierce
and heavy tattoo in your heart
take their essence upon waking
lay it out, shred the essence of it apart
before your mind’s eye’s awakening
let the morning sun warm
it through and through
then trust and sleep again
and fill your mind with peace
anew
100 · Aug 2020
Morning musing
sheila sharpe Aug 2020
Copper leaves, the colour of old coins
scatter in mown emerald grass

Ashy sky streaked with vermillion
gives warning of a coming storm

Strewn hazelnut shells betray the
vagabond squirrel's hunger on the footpath

A sparrow camouflages itself
becoming a part of lilac bush bark

What seems at first glance a twig is
a slug resurrected by early morning rain

A perfectly prismatic necklace of crystals
spangles the empty washing line

Daisy sequins grace the Garden's
gilded gown of dewy grass

Sleepy cat awakes, to become death incarnate
stalking birds on soft and stealthy paws

Whispy white clouds drift cotton-like
on the grey altar-cloth of the horizon

And a solitary mouse erupts from earth burrow
to scurry across my feet
98 · Nov 2020
All that I can do
sheila sharpe Nov 2020
Thinking something does not make it true
if it did I would think of this for you
that you may walk, talk, do all for yourself
and be completely and utterly whole

Wanting something does not make it real
otherwise, I would, in my prayers
ask God if he would make a deal

I would ask him to make of you
even more the beautiful person that I know you to be
to be able to speak, to talk, to sit beside, to walk
with your Mother, your brother, your Grandfather
all of your family, and everyone else, and, me

But wanting something does not make it real
and thinking something does make it come true
so all that I can do, is to hope that when you smile
it is because you know just how much we all love you
For a Grandson who is disabled, who cannot walk, talk or look after himself
98 · Oct 2020
Chaos came creeping
sheila sharpe Oct 2020
Chaos came creeping into the unsuspecting world
Invisible, except beneath the microscope's lens
borne upon the breath of old injustices, and rage
a crazed creature creeping out of Nature's cage

No-one saw the escape, no-one suspected
no-one could see its spiked and viperish visage
born coldly upon a sneeze, a cough, a breath
such was the fetid face of this unseen death

No continent, powerful, wealthy, mighty, rich or poor
witnessed chaos come unbidden through the door
but it is here, and continents and countries fall apart
Experts no protection can from their theories impart

Chaos is not always the detonation of bombs or guns
nor is it born in the blinding blazing of exploding suns
chaos is here always, watching and waiting to pounce
An unseen Terrorist that does not its arrival announce
thoughts on the Pandemic
sheila sharpe Nov 2020
Older than time is
the lullaby of the forests
it sings with a song that lulls
the weary traveller into a waking sleep
that feeds the soul and refreshes the tired mind
in a cadence soothing, satisfying, deep
it is a lullaby sung by every rustling leaf
by every tiny bird that softly sings
ah, and if the traveller could lay
their weary head upon the grass
so would their dreams take wing
they would drift into a reverie
that mere sleep would surpass
it is a lullaby that echoes
in tiny feet that softly patter
through the gloaming
in every wing that beats a soft refrain
in every sway of every branch caught
by the evening breeze
in every drop of softly falling rain
it is a lullaby far older than time
from way before this world was just a word
it is the lullaby that echoes through
the centuries
and shall, whilst this world lives
be ever heard
94 · Jun 2020
The shape of things
sheila sharpe Jun 2020
Our circle of love was as rounded and perfect as
a new world held in my hands and heart
as a silver crescent moon bright and shining
from the start
as a diamond faceted in oh so many ways
a square cut emerald gemstone
echoing the fresh lush greenness
of those first heady days
but all now has ended
come to a sad conclusion
all to an amorphous shape
ill formed, almost a nothingness
vague and half concealed
love that was once the
perfect fresh plucked apple,
red and ripe, has rotted
its inner most being decayed and
set to a bitterness strange and congealed
my hands are stained with my tears
my heart is as black
as deadly nightshade at its core
a dark teardrop pearl malformed and tarnished
beached upon a dark and distant shore
that circle of love that once I thought was ours
once rounded and perfect as a new world
that I held once in my hands and heart
is now a torrent of teardrops
onto the letter fallen
fallen from my trembling hands
a letter ripped - and ripped - apart
93 · Jul 2020
Save me your excuses
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
Save me your persuasive excuses for they
no longer have sufficient power to impress
no matter how you phrase those words and
no matter how with fancy flowery gestures
that curt and hurtful final goodbye you dress

I am empty now and so deathly cold that
no Sun's warmth can my future ever hold
you emptied all that I was into nothing at all
telling me it was for my own good you were
leaving me yet holding me still in your thrall

With your flattery you put me under a dark spell
but every gift you gave was just an empty token
for leaving that person who loved you so well
is betrayal, and betrayal always means that
someone's trusting heart lies cold and broken
91 · Oct 2020
I never knew
sheila sharpe Oct 2020
you sent me gifts
you sent me flowers
your lips kissed me
your arms held me
but still, I could not see

Perhaps my eyes were dimmed
perhaps, my ears were stopped
perhaps the words you spoke
dropped
into the dark well that was my heart

Whatever the reason,
somehow, I could not know
somehow, I could not feel
Somehow the smiles
that you gave to me were
cold to my soul
and so was love,
like acid aspic congealed

Now at last, too late I realise
that love should be felt
without gifts, without roses
without smiles and kisses
just, simply, felt,
and without feelings, I never knew
what I now am missing
not realising what love was
91 · Jul 2020
Rocket Man
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
Your bright smile shone a light in the darkness
that was the heart of an insecure teenage girl
a shimmering St. Catherine's wheel spinning
sending my young mind into a dizzying whirl
All through the days, weeks, months and years
through all of the laughter, sadness, and tears
You are still my Rocket Man, my one and only
for you still shine like a torch that lights my soul
your smile still a bright, blazing rocket soaring
lighting up my heart, and making me truly whole
sheila sharpe Jul 2020
A smile, a glance
he loves me

an angry look
he loves me not

a kiss on the cheek
he loves me

a sly pinch
he loves me not

a tender caress
he loves me

a savage shove
he loves me not

a bouquet of flowers
he loves me

a punch
he * *
domestic violence
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