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Monthly Archives: March 2014

Silhouettes and Soliloquies

23 Sunday Mar 2014

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, Heartbreak, Longing & Waiting, Loss, Poetry, Waiting and Longing

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, dreams, grief, heartbreak, longing, loss, memories, pain, poetry, sorrow, soul, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet

Shining_-_IV_-_The_Eerie_Cold

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m hiding in the shadows,

it’s where I long to be,

drifting into dreamscapes,

singing sad soliloquies.

 

I have my other life, you see?

I’ve lived it since a child;

It’s not quite real – that I know,

but I’ve lived it for a while.

 

The daytime is the hardest,

a cruel life chased by death;

but night time is so easy,

sleep brings immortal breath.

 

What’s real, what’s not?

Well who’s to say?

Each one its own delusion,

by night the moon –

by day the sun –

each life is an illusion.

 

Shadows play upon my mind,

ghosts welcome setting sun;

silhouettes of dreams gone by

half-lives, loves-lived, undone.

 

So let me go, and leave me be,

to live each night anew.

I’ll sing my sweet soliloquies,

while dreams bring me to you.

 

 

© Silhouettes and Soliloquies 2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

The Eerie Cold (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

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The Irish Emigrant

17 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by Worldly Winds in Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, grief, heartbreak, longing, loss, love, memories, memory, poetry, The Countess of Dufferin, The Irish Emigrant

Here’s a poem to commemorate St Patrick’s day, by The Countess of Dufferin.

Happy St Patrick’s Day to family and friends 🙂

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The Irish Emigrant

 

I’m sitting on the stile, Mary,

Where we sat, side by side,

That bright May morning long ago

When first you were my bride.

The corn was springing fresh and green,

And the lark sang loud and high,

The red was on your lip, Mary,

The love-light in your eye.

 

The place is little changed, Mary,

The day is bright as then,

The lark’s loud song is in my ear,

The corn is green again;

But I miss the soft clasp of your hand,

Your breath warm on my cheek,

And I still keep list’ning for the words

You never more may speak.

 

‘Tis but a step down yonder lane,

The little Church stands near –

The Church where we were wed, Mary –

I see the spire from here;

But the graveyard lies between, Mary –

My step might break your rest –

Where you, my Darling, lie asleep

With your baby on your breast.

 

I’m very lonely now, Mary –

The poor make no new friends –

But, oh, they love the better still

The few our Father sends.

And you were all I had, Mary,

My blessing and my pride;

There’s nothing left to care for now,

Since my poor Mary died.

 

Yours was the good brave heart, Mary,

That still kept hoping on,

When trust in God had left my soul,

and half my strength was gone.

There was comfort ever on your lip,

And the kind look on your brow.

I bless you Mary, for that same,

Though you can’t hear me now.

 

I thank you for the patient smile

When your heart was fit to break;

When the hunger pain was gnawing there

You hid it for my sake!

I bless you for the pleasant word,

When your heart was sad and sore.

Oh! I’m thankful you are gone, Mary,

Where grief can’t reach you more!

 

I’m bidding you a long farewell,

My Mary – kind and true!

But I’ll not forget you, darling,

In the land I’m going to.

They say there’s bread and work for all,

And the sun shines always there;

But I’ll not forget old Ireland,

Were it fifty times as fair!

 

And when amid those grand old woods

I sit and shut my eyes,

My heart will travel back again

To where my Mary lies;

I’ll think I see the little stile

Where we sat, side by side,

And the springing corn and bright May morn,

When first you were my bride.

 

The Countess of Dufferin (1807 – 1867)

 

photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/atoach/2699647020/”>Tim Green aka atoach

http://photopin.com

http://creativecommons.org

 

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Black Rose

16 Sunday Mar 2014

Posted by Worldly Winds in Longing & Waiting, Loss, Poetry

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm Black Rose, Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Black Rose, death, grief, heartbreak, longing, loss, love, memories, memory, muse, pain, petals, poetry, Rose, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet

42431109_02db44ea3b_m

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The last of the summer rays

blush gently on my cheek.

Tears fall like dew from the morning rose.

 

The flower blossoms,

the flower blooms.

Slowly it fades

as petals fall

one by one

the spirit

is gone.

 

I wear my heart upon my sleeve,

I also wear my rose.

Both are there for you to see.

 

The flower blossoms,

the flower blooms.

Slowly it fades

as petals fall

one by one

the spirit

is gone.

 

The last rose of summer cries.

The heart beats deathly slow.

The sun has set beneath the skies.

 

The flower blossoms,

the flower blooms.

Slowly it fades

as petals fall

one by one

the spirit

is gone.

 

 

© Black Rose 2012

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

black rose 1 (Photo credit: Melinda Taber)

 

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Paramour

11 Tuesday Mar 2014

Posted by Worldly Winds in Heartbreak, Longing & Waiting, Loss, Love, Poetry

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, heart, heartbreak, longing, loss, love, memories, memory, paramour, poetry, tears, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet

teareye3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Within my mind I see your face,

still haunted by the sound of your laughter,

recalling the warmth of your sweet embrace.

 

All these I carry within my heart.

 

See my head turn as I hear your name,

watch my heart break when you touch my dreams,

the tears that burn with the memory pain.

 

All these I carry within my heart.

My lovely, lovely, paramour.

 

 

© Paramour 06/03/2012

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

 

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Trees

10 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by Worldly Winds in Nature, Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, autumn, nature, poetry, trees, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet

2113168379_9ea2247370_m

 

 

 

 

 

Matchmaker trees,

trunks of knobbly knees,

arthritic twigs,

that creak in the breeze.

A splutter of leaves,

yellowed nicotine trees,

the breath of a smoker,

lets out a wheeze.

We’re dying, they weep,

as autumn does creep,

within crispy veins,

as they lay down to sleep.

 

© Trees 28.09.2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

 

Ash Tree in Fall (Photo credit: hz536n/George Thomas)

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A Love Poem

08 Saturday Mar 2014

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, Poetry

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, dark, gothic, love, love poem, poetry, Subha, UK poet, Uk poetry, unlove poem, Yorkshire poet

7403247852_6255cb9467

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You said you loved me from the start,

and in your hands you’d hold my heart.

So I will write a hundred lines,

and I will write a hundred times;

I must not be too literal.

I must not be too literal.

I must not be too literal…

So when you say you love my hair –

adore the sparkle in my eye,

I have no reason to believe you lie.

So just for you,

what I will do,

I shall make a gift to you.

My lustrous hair I will cut,

and Subha like my eye will pluck,

and in a box with my beating heart,

tied with a ribbon and a bow,

to you, these symbols, I bestow.

 

© A Love Poem 08.03.2014

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

(photocredit – photo Pin)

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