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Kirsty Kirkwood

of

Alton, England, UK

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Then I Met Me

by

Kirsty Kirkwood

I think it was just yesterday
while I was strolling along,
I walked right into myself
and wondered what was wrong.

I politely asked me how I was
and of course I was doing fine,
Iíve never really said otherwise
Iíve always toed the line.

But I can look into my eyes
and see the pain within,
the little girl whoís struggling
with hope so faint and thin.

Iím an adult now and I should have
some direction in my life,
but I keep battling with the chore
of laughter, love and life.

Just like a leaf upon the waves
I feel powerless inside,
although I know Iím stronger than
the ebb and flow of tide.

I canít help feeling that Iíve failed,
how could I throw away
the gift that God still gives me
each and every day?

And people that I learn to trust
they always let me down,
so I will continue on my own
sad and proud and strong.

But in the space that is all my own,
a time that no-one seeís,
I weep for you and him and me
as I sit and hug my knees.

And you will never see this sight
to you Iím doing fine,
yet appearances are often wrong
and seldom change with time.


The Harvester

by

Kirsty Kirkwood

I didnít know quite when it was,
or more importantly why
You first twisted your bitter knife,
enough to make me cry

My partner, my friend, my ally, my love
Youíve destroyed them all in one
Through lies, deceit and silly games
You certainly had your fun

But now youíve found out who it was
That your lies were to destroy
Donít be surprised to notice
That theyíve snapped you like a toy

Remember that we always have
To reap what we sow
And now youíve found your garden
Has begun to grow and grow

Not for you the lilies
or the petals of the spring
No butterflies come visiting
No woodland sparrows sing

You have done well to cultivate
A garden quite unique
Are you sure itís nettles
And deadly nightshade that you seek?

Itís harvest time so you beware
Of how you plough your crop
You will get stung, you will get hurt
Only you can make it stop

So bear in mind when springtime comes
What you choose to put to seed
For harvest time will come again
And you again will reap


The Mill Pond of my Mind

by

Kirsty Kirkwood

Placid, calm, tranquil, still
A haven for my thoughts,
Cool and clear and crisp and clean
Nurturing my dreams.

A surge of air, the pressure builds
The missile has been launched,
An ugly mass of hardened rock
Intimidates my peace.

The surface breaks, a thunderous splash
Overwhelms my delicate calm,
A terrible swell, a tidal wave
Smashes against my hopes.

The waters rage, an angry froth
Of silt and mud and scum,
A dirty broth of fear and shame
Clouds my precious view.

But in time the swell subsides
The rock lies on the bottom,
Just gentle ripples stroke the wounds
To sooth my damaged pride.

Perhaps one day Iíll dive in deep -
Investigate the rock,
Heave it out or let it rest
Amongst the stones and pebbles.


days are gone

by

Kirsty Kirkwood

days are gone
summer is here
lets make a new start
it is a new year.

the birds are singing
all today
because today is the month of may.