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Verse and Prose Part B
A small selection from a larger collection…

All items Copyright © 1986-2017 Paul Huxham. All rights reserved.
  • Echoes of a distant past
    Echoes of a distant past - Copyright © Paul Huxham 2017
    Sometimes in the night,
    I think I hear noises and see a light.
    How loud they seem and bright.

    Can they find me after all this time ?
    My tracks are covered with verse and rhyme.

    But you know, don't you...

    You suspect what cannot be;
    and what is done
    and what must be.

    Well, now you found me and you will see
    as brief glimpses they bring of me.

    For if not the truth then they must be
    echoes of a distant past.
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  • Almost perfect
    Almost perfect - Copyright © Paul Huxham 2017
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    I don't know what it is that I do.
    When she is silent.
    And the tears fall quietly to the ground.
    When everything I do and say just makes her more upset.

    God, it was a beautiful day.
    The sky clear blue.
    The breeze through the trees.
    The river.

    Almost perfect.

    But she sat there silent and cried.
    And even now I am at a loss to explain why.
  • Perihelion
    Perihelion - Copyright © Paul Huxham 2017
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    It all comes to this?

    I was so close; only had to reach out.
    Yet I skimmed past, unable to stop.
    The closest I've ever come.
    I can still feel the wind blowing my hair, tearing at my face.
    Yet when it came to the crunch... I just couldn't.

    During my long journey outwards through the void
    I will remember the sun around which I revolve
    and return to take hold of your hand.
  • Geometry divides
    Geometry divides - Copyright © Paul Huxham 2017
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    Parallel lines remain, unlike my mind that
    gravitates towards the centre of a self destructing spiral.

    People peer at me through tamed and untrained eyes.

    As I transition the surrounding event horizon they are left
    to wonder and surmise.

    And I know for certain that the body I leave behind
    will not become a burden so long as geometry survives.

  • The last time
    The last time - Copyright © Paul Huxham 2017
    Light through the window
    casts a shadow on the wall.
    A faint and blurry outline
    that lives for nothing more.

    As the sun rises
    over the trees and the ground,
    the shadow becomes clear
    and sharp and well defined.
    As the person who creates it
    Cries.
    For the last time.

    The people who have fought
    long and hard through the years.
    This is their time.
    All that they have worked for.
    The blood, sweat and tears.
    Finally has a meaning
    shining bright across the sky.
    Never trust the man who says its all a lie.

    As the sun reaches the peak
    of its flight across the sky.
    The shadows they have gone
    on the wall far behind.
    And we feel enriched by the power
    of those who surround us
    with love.
    To them we give our love.

    And as for the person casting
    a shadow on the wall.
    He is welcome to cry
    on my shoulder
    For the last time.
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