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June Macfarlane

of

Darlington, England, UK

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Goodbye My Love

by

June Macfarlane

Rose petals fall softly
Floating gently to land
Like the soft kisses
He placed on my cheeks
As he bid me goodbye

The sun will always rise
A heart full of promise
Like the yearning in me
For his blessed return

Clouds darken and swell
pregnant with raindrops
As my soul fills with love
That waits only for you


Tangerine Lake

by

June Macfarlane

The sun peeks slowly over the lake
Slowly rising to kiss the sky
Shimmering reflections like scattered gold
Adorn the indigo surface of gloss

Ink of night is swallowed in the deep
Sinking to depths untouched by the light
As dappled blue moments emerge to be seen
And earth reflections glitter brightly

As the morn yawns and stretches its arms
A magnificent portrait of new life is born
Wildlife brushes fresh colours like paint
Animating in mirrors of unique tones

Amber shots are a sight to behold
Winking between deep sapphire hues
A glare of platinum flashes and blinds
Imprinting the beauty to a memory on hold

The lake warms in a sweet tangerine glow
And wind breathes sighs moving water like silk
Kaleidoscope of colours pour over all
Enhancing dreams with awakening hopes

The lake is now dressed and ready for the day
Wearing all of the sky and all of the earth
Just one more miracle easily passed by
A tangerine lake on a canvas of day

She Is Here

by

June Macfarlane



French lavender still lingers in the air,

announcing her presence as if she were there.

The room still warms with the essence of her,

a potpourri of emotions ready to stir.

Her empty bed holds on to reflections,

wrapped in her aroma , tears, and affections.

Her dreams once played across these pillows of down,

sweet dreams of dancing in her emerald gown.

The room, undisturbed, since the day of her death,

is crammed with her being and the love of her breath.

She is the smile in the mirror, the waltz of the dust,

the shadow in the window, and the hair in the brush.

The very air whispers the sound of her laughter,

like an echo of her soul to remind us long after.

Intense love is tangible here in her empty domain,

but we carry her within us - an eternal flame.

Oh, how I yearn for the circle of her arms,

For those gentle kisses, like healing balms.

There were so many words I wanted to say,

So many days have been stolen away.

The sadness within, fills me with pain,

so I will visit her room to be with her again.

She Is Here

by

June Macfarlane



French lavender still lingers in the air,

announcing her presence as if she were there.

The room still warms with the essence of her,

a potpourri of emotions ready to stir.

Her empty bed holds on to reflections,

wrapped in her aroma , tears, and affections.

Her dreams once played across these pillows of down,

sweet dreams of dancing in her emerald gown.

The room, undisturbed, since the day of her death,

is crammed with her being and the love of her breath.

She is the smile in the mirror, the waltz of the dust,

the shadow in the window, and the hair in the brush.

The very air whispers the sound of her laughter,

like an echo of her soul to remind us long after.

Intense love is tangible here in her empty domain,

but we carry her within us - an eternal flame.

Oh, how I yearn for the circle of her arms,

For those gentle kisses, like healing balms.

There were so many words I wanted to say,

So many days have been stolen away.

The sadness within, fills me with pain,

so I will visit her room to be with her again.

She Is Here

by

June Macfarlane



French lavender still lingers in the air,

announcing her presence as if she were there.

The room still warms with the essence of her,

a potpourri of emotions ready to stir.

Her empty bed holds on to reflections,

wrapped in her aroma , tears, and affections.

Her dreams once played across these pillows of down,

sweet dreams of dancing in her emerald gown.

The room, undisturbed, since the day of her death,

is crammed with her being and the love of her breath.

She is the smile in the mirror, the waltz of the dust,

the shadow in the window, and the hair in the brush.

The very air whispers the sound of her laughter,

like an echo of her soul to remind us long after.

Intense love is tangible here in her empty domain,

but we carry her within us - an eternal flame.

Oh, how I yearn for the circle of her arms,

For those gentle kisses, like healing balms.

There were so many words I wanted to say,

So many days have been stolen away.

The sadness within, fills me with pain,

so I will visit her room to be with her again.

She Is Here

by

June Macfarlane



French lavender still lingers in the air,

announcing her presence as if she were there.

The room still warms with the essence of her,

a potpourri of emotions ready to stir.

Her empty bed holds on to reflections,

wrapped in her aroma , tears, and affections.

Her dreams once played across these pillows of down,

sweet dreams of dancing in her emerald gown.

The room, undisturbed, since the day of her death,

is crammed with her being and the love of her breath.

She is the smile in the mirror, the waltz of the dust,

the shadow in the window, and the hair in the brush.

The very air whispers the sound of her laughter,

like an echo of her soul to remind us long after.

Intense love is tangible here in her empty domain,

but we carry her within us - an eternal flame.

Oh, how I yearn for the circle of her arms,

For those gentle kisses, like healing balms.

There were so many words I wanted to say,

So many days have been stolen away.

The sadness within, fills me with pain,

so I will visit her room to be with her again.