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Emily goes for a walk


Emily was at the beginning of her sixty-fifth year,
She lived alone since her husband,Colin died in 2008.
Her life involved cleaning and maintaining the family home.
Not that there was any family really.
Her only friend was a stray cat called Elenore.
She lived in Sydney so the January weather was fine and hot.
Just the kind of weather for a walk.

She put on a white dress and a straw hat with a rose on it.
“Come on Collie lets get going” she said softly
She often spoke to Colin even though he wasn’t there.
Her walk took her passed the Wilson house. She stopped for a moment.
In the front garden were  bushes of Lavender. It was glorious.
“ Oh look Colin its Lavender.It  always reminds me of our first date.
Remember you gave me some Lavender perfume as a present.
Oh it must have been 1988.I still love the fragrance.”
Her mind often drifted to the place where good hearts go.
And in that place Colin was always tall,dark and handsome.

Emily kept walking  down passed the river and the park.
There was a garden filled with red and yellow  roses.
She sat on a park bench and smiled at the beautiful flowers.
“Oh Colin I was never really a big fan of roses until you brought me some.
Do you remember  when I was in hospital and  I had to have electric shocks.
You brought me bunches an bunches of roses.
It was divine.The whole ward smelled of rose perfume.”
“Oh Dear the sun seems to be going down.I’m not sure where I am.
Is that you Colin.Are you there.I should like to go back now.
I can’t see my way back.Please someone help me.
Ahh I am so lost.”
“Don’t fret sweetheart. I will lead you home.
And when we get there I have a surprise for you I have placed Lilies in your room
So lets go back.Hold my hand dear heart and I will lead you home.”

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 12/3/2019 10:56:00 AM
Hi Lachlan, Enjoyed reading this poem. Just a couple of observations - it was like reading a chapter in a novel and Judson Jerome - poet and literary critic - suggested avoiding the the verb "to be" citing it as a weak verb that is an anchor rather than a race car when moving poetry forward. Continued success to you.
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