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Unpolished Ink Poem
Winter sun
kissed by the breeze
shakes the limbs
of starveling trees
wakes the bones
of each bare bough
and tells the spring
it’s not long now
Copyright © Unpolished Ink | Year Posted 2025
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Unpolished Ink Poem
The rain when it came
was not unexpected
soft at first
then larger drops
dancing puddles
ignored by hurrying passers by
I stayed to the end
and heard it all
that orchestra of sky
Copyright © Unpolished Ink | Year Posted 2025
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Unpolished Ink Poem
If I were to end it,
pull the cord and douse the cabin lights for good,
it would be here at the high bluff
salt tang in my hair blowing free to the lighthouse
the blue blue gem of the sea below
this is what I want, if I should ever choose to go
It does not mean I will
just that I might like it to be so
Such a Beautiful Place
Copyright © Unpolished Ink | Year Posted 2025
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Unpolished Ink Poem
When April comes
she will do as she pleases
concerning snow or gentle breezes
as for her mood no one can say
she's not as calm as her sister May
Copyright © Unpolished Ink | Year Posted 2025
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Unpolished Ink Poem
My cathartic heart
threw away the finished leaves of bitter autumn's burning
I brewed myself a loving cup, made sweeter by my learning
tansy, bay with chamomile, bright meadow flowers to sip
tastes better far than poison to be found upon your lip
Copyright © Unpolished Ink | Year Posted 2025
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Unpolished Ink Poem
What is left,
what remains
beyond pain at my leaving
as memories fade
at the end of your grieving
when the tide in which you wade
is not so cold and not so deep
what then my love
which memories will you keep,
the echo of my voice
wrapped in memory,
pressed in a book
will you take a look
but not too hard,
don’t stay too long,
remember me fondly
when I am gone
then take down my picture
and carry on
Copyright © Unpolished Ink | Year Posted 2025
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Unpolished Ink Poem
Margaret's fingers clasped and still
white wings upon her windowsill
silent doves that came to rest
sleeping now upon her chest
each settled bird that came to land
will fly no more from Margaret’s hands
Copyright © Unpolished Ink | Year Posted 2025
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Unpolished Ink Poem
A house upon my shoulders
with a garden for the mind,
an address the earthly body
could never hope to find
Copyright © Unpolished Ink | Year Posted 2025
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Unpolished Ink Poem
There are tulips in the gutter
perfect blooms,
destined for dinner with a friend,
they were meant for the table
but alas she was unable to attend
Copyright © Unpolished Ink | Year Posted 2025
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Unpolished Ink Poem
If I could,
I would kiss your green and living lips with words
take the notes of garden birds and wrap myself in song
bend the trees and bid them do my written will,
caress your honeyed stones to better hear thy whispered tune,
held within my grateful arms from thatch to cobbled floor
safe inside your ancient door and mullioned charms
I need no more
Copyright © Unpolished Ink | Year Posted 2025
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