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Scharlie Meeuws

of

Oxford, Oxfordshire, UK

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You will find

by

Scharlie Meeuws

You will find
my house of memories
hiding behind hedges of longing.
Lights in the hallways of love
invite to the inner rooms.

There are still splashes of dream foam
holding on to the old bath tub;
you climb the cracking stairway,
encounter tonguing shadows.
Their whispers take the night out
like window blinds.
There is the repetitive sound of the rain
splashing against the glass,
a prayer wheel of lovers’ promises.
The open book beneath the soft lamplight
tells a tale of two people
who tried but stumbled
on the cracked floor tiles.


Elegy for a poet (dedicated to Carlos Bousoņo)

by

Scharlie Meeuws



Without digressions and steadily
You grew old like a river reaching the sea.

As one who reaches the sea and the sand,
you let go off the safety of the land.

You fought the storms battling with age.
Your spirit overcame. You turned a page.

Your words became salty and filled with shells,
drifting in light and drafted in spells.

Young in its fervour, brother of the waves,
your heart carried weight, wherever it braved.

Wherever it braved, you came into being
as when morning dawns and night is fleeing

in the slimmest of lights, and you suddenly know
a new day is born and you feel aglow.

You reached old age undisturbed by chance
with time for reflection and eager for balance,

with a gift to listen, repent and find peace,
as the sea waves receive, hold on and release.

As the sea winds play with an errant dove
may the Great Spirit enfold you with love,

carry you, written in wind, salt and sea
to Elysium’s infinite harmony.

Elegy for a poet (dedicated to Carlos Bousoņo)

by

Scharlie Meeuws



Without digressions and steadily
You grew old like a river reaching the sea.

As one who reaches the sea and the sand,
you let go off the safety of the land.

You fought the storms battling with age.
Your spirit overcame. You turned a page.

Your words became salty and filled with shells,
drifting in light and drafted in spells.

Young in its fervour, brother of the waves,
your heart carried weight, wherever it braved.

Wherever it braved, you came into being
as when morning dawns and night is fleeing

in the slimmest of lights, and you suddenly know
a new day is born and you feel aglow.

You reached old age undisturbed by chance
with time for reflection and eager for balance,

with a gift to listen, repent and find peace,
as the sea waves receive, hold on and release.

As the sea winds play with an errant dove
may the Great Spirit enfold you with love,

carry you, written in wind, salt and sea
to Elysium’s infinite harmony.