Let me

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I will sing you comfort when your voice forgets the notes.

I will sing you a clearing to feel the warmth on your back.

I will sing you courage for days when you need to hear the music again.

I will sit in silence listening to your song

when you have forgotten it exists.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

Between the lines

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line straight as the horizon, faintly blue as sky meets sea

each edge, finger-width apart, to contain the message

 

my words lay cushioned by these guiding layers

some smeared by effort of my own hand

 

it was not by accident that I wrote to you

between the lines and not on them.

 

our relationship never occupied spaces

defined by rules of in or out.

 

© Ali Grimshaw (revised version of 2016 poem)

Rise/Set – Morning in Maui with my sweetheart observing the sea.

d’Verse – Open Link Night

Anticipate

 

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My closed eyes wonder

have you been waiting for my call?

Are you one who waits?

One who waits to be

chosen

invited

picked?

Are you one who anticipates hopefully

rocking chair movement, back and forth

not going anywhere

waiting to open your door

find me standing before you?

Are you willing to be the one that shows up

arms wide, inviting in

the unprotected in downpour, ghostly gale,

frosty fear anticipating rejection?

Are you willing to hear the

no?

Are you open to the yes?

Which is more frightening?

© Ali Grimshaw 2017

 

 

 

 

Mirror of Love

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By knowing you,

I find myself.

Now and 90 years wrinkled.

My doubts don’t exist in your eyes.

You see the chipped edges

scars of failed attempts

places worn raw from not retreating.

The rough, abeyant curves of my puzzle.

You see my essence of spirit

gently hold it all up,

a mirror before me,

now I can see,

for myself,

who I am becoming.

 

Revised version of the original poem shared in 2016

© Ali Grimshaw 2017

 

Want Ad

Wanted:

A listener.

Intent on feeling instead of hearing my words.

Eager to sift out the ones I have outgrown 

return those that call my name, carry me forward,

speak them like a trail to follow when I am lost.

Will utter truth even when it cracks my surface.

Incapable of withholding even a syllable of himself

with the knowing it will suffocate our tomorrows.

Who will remember my voice,

long after I’ve gone.

Curiosity a must.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017