Pure

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 I read it on Beehive Poetry evening at Josef's K Cafe in Bradford on 19/02/24, England

Cold morning mist,

 Wraps me 

Into white and thick velvet.

I disappear 

In a distance

Turning into

Nothing more 

Then my innosent

Exhaling  breath.

12/12/23

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I created and read this poem in the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England (19/02/24) and on Rhubarb Poetry evening at Triangle Pub in Shipley Bradford on 28/02/24, England

When I turn

Into ashes,

Scatter them in a 

Blue sea,

Let it cradle me

Timelessly,

I want to experience

That I don’t remember.

I want to hug you,

When you swim

In the sea,

I want to see you

Sailing away

To the place

Where you are happy. 

24/02/24

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I created this poem being inspired by the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England. I attended it on 02/03/24.

He circled around her

Whispering in blues,

Blue melody

Trees breezed

In a summer night

She melted in divine blue,

Blue moon

Witnessed

How blue they were

Scattering over them

Stars hammered in silver

Taking out

Of his pocket in blue.

02/03/24

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I created this poem being inspired by the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England. I attended it on 16/03/24.

I read it at Rhubarb Poetry night, at The Triangle pub, Shipley, Bradford, England on 27/03/34

I watch her smoky blue

Thin body frame

Standing in a high gothic window

Casting navy blue shadow

Over silver floor,

She doesn’t want

My tenderly blue touch.

Her ice blue mind

Wants stormy silence

In this smouldering blue hour.

I see

Snowy blue moon

behind her head.

She looks holly.

The clock on the wall

Is ticking 

Washing blue gold away.

Making us to fear

Face Indigo fading away.

16/03/24

Laying into bluebell field.

This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s workshop in Halifax Kings Cross Library on 20/04/24 and our topic was Bluebells.

I return home. Sun and blue sky,

Trees and endless forests surround me.

Soon will be Easter.

Bluebells whisper in my ears.

We will turn into heaven

Leaving sun behind us and summer

For you to enjoy.

20/04/24

What bluebells dream of

This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s workshop in Halifax Kings Cross Library on 20/04/24 and our topic was Bluebells.

I read it in the Serendipity Extraordinary Ordinary anthology book launch at Lawrence Batley Theatre on 21/04/24, Rhubarb Poetry night, at The Triangle pub, Shipley, Bradford on 24/04/24

I fell in love with Autumn

Trees and anmals told me

He is hansome.

I dream, I could be be here longer

And see him riding a hore over the horizon

I would give him myself away

And dress me into clothes I had had never before

Red and yellow, brown and orange

I would be a princess Mary and he would be my William of Orange.

20/04/24

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This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s poetry workshop session at Kings Cross Library, Halifax.

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This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s poetry workshop session at Kings Cross Library, Halifax.

I talk blue and indigo, I sing Oxford Blue when

My heart hurts when days are black instead of white

Walking over oceans wrapped in smoky mists.

18/05/24