Johnny MacAlister was six-years-old, young enough still for wishes,
Baby sister, Rosie, was all of three, all giggling and adorable kisses.
With fond, indulgent parents, the family was content in their home,
In a town, sleepy in sunlit day, where a scarlet cock used his comb.
Johnny played with Rosie every day. He loved to get her laughing;
As if a gaudy parade of jesters and clowns, chanced to be passing!
Forget-me-not days brought fast friends, in fruitful times of flowers,
......
The Stranger within my gate,
He may be true or kind,
But he does not talk my talk--
I cannot feel his mind.
I see the face and the eyes and the mouth,
But not the soul behind.
The men of my own stock,
They may do ill or well,
But they tell the lies I am wanted to,
......
The word goes round Repins,
the murmur goes round Lorenzinis,
at Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers,
the Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands
and men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club:
There's a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can't stop him.
The traffic in George Street is banked up for half a mile
and drained of motion. The crowds are edgy with talk
and more crowds come hurrying. Many run in the back streets
......
Old elm that murmured in our chimney top
The sweetest anthem autumn ever made
And into mellow whispering calms would drop
When showers fell on thy many coloured shade
And when dark tempests mimic thunder made -
While darkness came as it would strangle light
With the black tempest of a winter night
That rocked thee like a cradle in thy root -
How did I love to hear the winds upbraid
Thy strength without - while all within was mute.
......
This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like
the fond arms of love.
This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of
blessing.
When you are alone it will sit by your side and whisper in
your ear, when you are in the crowd it will fence you about with
aloofness.
My song will be like a pair of wings to your dreams, it will
transport your heart to the verge of the unknown.
It will be like the faithful star overhead when dark night is
......
Johnny MacAlister was six-years-old, young enough still for wishes,
Baby sister, Rosie, was all of three, all giggling and adorable kisses.
With fond, indulgent parents, the family was content in their home,
In a town, sleepy in sunlit day, where a scarlet cock used his comb.
Johnny played with Rosie every day. He loved to get her laughing;
As if a gaudy parade of jesters and clowns, chanced to be passing!
Forget-me-not days brought fast friends, in fruitful times of flowers,
......
You're the rose of my heart
That continues to grow
With my tears to grow
With my tears, I'll take care of you
You will rise among the artifical ones
Tall and beautiful
As I puck you out
And put you in my buttonhole
Yr scent fills the room with youth
To dream yr smile is my guest
......
Today my child slammed the door too hard
And I took a deep breath and thought of you
You set the standard for how to show love
And so I shifted towards compassion
Last Sunday I met up with a friend for coffee
And she talked for so long, I got bored
I took a deep breath and thought of you
And remembered the presence you gave me
......
Having children is like having horcruxes.
Part of me is out in the world away
From my protection and each day I worry.
Will someone find these disconnected parts
Of me? Will they treasure them as I do?
Will they hunt them down to get to me?
Each wound on them burns me with lightning.
I wish I was still Tom Riddle; simple and whole.
Yet like Harry, I would give myself for these.
barefoot on the edge of innocence,
laughter spilling like petals
in a summer breeze.
eyes glinting with mischief,
a wildflower in a garden of rules,
her spirit ignites whispers—
soft shadows of temptation
wrapped in the silk of youth.
......