04 May 2006


Dead flowers.

That the single eccentric embrace
I dream about,
Makes me moil with the
Down beat passion
I feel for the regalia of colours,
I feel for the shapes,
I feel for the gestures
You have around you,
About you.


And in you.


My pupils are shaking without
The humidity of your love.


I put my arm around me
To hinder me back;
Wanting to run,
Never stop.
Knock on her Beachwood door,
Candle in a cradle,
Dead flowers on her floor.





Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 1398 times
Written on 2006-05-04 at 21:20

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Ragdoll.
An amazingly beautiful poem. nothing else needs to be said. xx
2006-05-08


John Ashleigh
Good news!

I'm getting published woo go me.
2006-05-05


lynn
this is the best poem i have ever read!!!! i love it!!!!!!
*bookmarked*
amber lynn
2006-05-05



and out of the sombre light
a quiet entrance he makes-
a poet in whom life is not so much delight
as it si the unfolding of self amid the pain.
a trully remarkable achievement!
2006-05-05


Kathy Lockhart
this one is very eerie and sad. how your heart must be breaking.

"My pupils are shaking without
The humidity of your love."

I absolutely am enthralled by this line.

Excellent!!!!! xx kathy
2006-05-04



Whew! John, this write is superb throughout.
"My pupils are shaking without
The humidity of your love." - overwhelming.
An absolute favourite.
2006-05-04