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poems and photographs 440

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another poem and photograph every weekday. Or so.

(photographs: Tom Davis)

Wednesday, August 16, 2017







a normal angel

you look at me and I look away
your smile, it comes and goes
i see you as you surely are
and life is a pink rose

you speak your love in silence, or
a normal angel's prose
I feel, oh, I don't know what
and life is a pink rose

here I am, within your arms
I know what heaven knows
I know you from inside my heart
and life is a pink rose

so you are I and we are you
in one sweet quelquechose
there is no end to this midnight love
and life is a pink rose 

Tom Davis, after (and a long way behind) Edith Piaf, La Vie en Rose






Tuesday, August 15, 2017







petal by petal


somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

from e. e. cummings, somewhere i have never travelled.






Monday, August 14, 2017









A rose by any other name
Would get the blame
For being what it is -
The colour of a kiss,
The shadow of a flame.
A rose may earn another name,
So call it love;
So call it love I will,
And love is like the sea,
Which changes constantly,
And yet is still
The same.

Tanith Lee







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