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A song, no more.

In this stark cold morn,
dew shivers on the line,
the town fox peers
from a castle of grass,
Still;

the moon tipped at venus
is pale wearing night loosely,
fabrics of undulating heavens
cry tears of missed stitches

Gentle moans of anguish
are the collected songs,
wept into cotton and bark
a song less void cocooned

A lone light burns to flicker
spluttering it's waxy death,
A cupboard of memories
lays empty and melancholy

the black dog howls its last
no longer in his drooling jaw,
flightless, yet soaring away
gasping you glide free at last

Books worn & torn from love
find a way out of sacred places,
turning each word with passion
our minds eye contemplate,

no more pages to relish
no more imagination to
gasp at in awe. my song
is the lost works we can
now never adore.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
We lost a poet yesterday. A great of Australian and international renown. I had the privilege of meeting him. His kind words and encouragement kept me buggering on with my scribbles as I called them back then. Been a long time since I've called them that. Smiles Jess This came from the raw emotion of his passing, give me a few days I'll come back and decide what needs changing etc. I do hope you enjoy it. I'd hate to write a piece of crap poem in his honour. Les Murray Born: 17 October 1938, Nabiac Died: 29 April 2019, Taree Taree is where I live and Les was literally a spit away from where I lay.
Editing stage: 

Comments

a feeling of anguish from someone who admired the poetry of another. Not overly maudlin,
but sad to feel the passing of someone who was an artist admired. The next to last stanza is beautiful. ~ Gee.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Have always been favourites of mine both New south Welshman and woman and such stunning poets. And having a conversation with him about his poetry and I told him how much I admired him. He gave me a few tips which I've always cherished like treasure. Last thing I said was I'd keep buggering on with my scribbles lol I remember him smiling at that and saying something like dont sell yourself short. I was star struck. Thanks for the read I'll come back to this. I need to add two more stanzas. I'll be very happy for for critiques then. When its done. Properly. As it should be.

Love and higgliest bugs xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment

In the shadow of the grave all seems dark and without purpose. Now ya got Me feeling down.......stan

I feel so sad. All the poems he will never write. And we can never now read. I think this was a purge something that needed to be out. I'll write something beautiful to honour him. He was a kind man even if my relationship was just in two passing ships. He made such an impression.

Hugs and love take care Bro xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment

I can't really comment other than to say the lines of the poem are beautiful. Someone you met and someone the world has lost. Its a touching and elegant obituary of sorts. the lost words we can never adore. I don't know what to say but I'm sorry for your loss. I'd be interested to read his poems

john x

Mr Murray was born a little under half an hour from where I sit. He died just minutes away aged 80. His poetry is touching. I read somewhere he suffered the black dog as I have done for many years. But all the stories i see now appearing on our local FB page speak of a man willing to share his wisdom. A kind man. A man who was loved by people he never met. My conversation with him was maybe just under 20mins. But I felt a grief at hearing of his passing. His poetry went from the delicate to harshly beautiful. He was a clever man. There isn't a whole lot online but there is some and i know where they are squirreled away. I shall send you an email with as many links as I can find. Plus I'll type out my favourite favourite poem. I dont think its online. But I have the book. My goal now is to collect all his books.

Thanks so much for reading this. It poured out and now I need to work on it. Perfect it as much as possible

Hugs Jayne x

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment

thank you so much dear Jayne of course I'll look forward to reading and again sorry for your deep loss.

love John Xxx

Thanks so much. I've always had so much respect for you and your poetry, you opinion and thoughts are most welcome.

Love and hugs Jayne xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment
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