What Is The Poem Between The Mirrors And Other Poem

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Between the Mirrors and other poems by Garth Kellett Acknowlegements I owe a great deal to many people, for their kindness and wisdom and putting me right. But to some I owe even more. Chief amongst these is my wife, Judy ; my daughter and her husband, Rachel and Jonathan. I will also mention Jan and Ian Bramley, David Ison and two college friends, Barry and Spike. All of these deserve more thanks than I am able to conceive. Between the Mirrors Standing between the bathroom mirrors I can see my profiles before me and behind both receding and approaching. They come from the past and the future so many reflections yet to come so many having gone before. All that…show more content…
A Family Photo When I was a boy I sat on a sofa my mother, my sister, my brother by me. We posed for a photo in a house all new and our smiles were as fresh and pristine as the paint. I glowed in the frame with my family by me. We'd lost father, he'd died somewhere in a war but a new life, a new house, new home and hope all told were better and bested our grief. Our own pictures kept on growing and growing and hopes we had then we four on the sofa things were coming, panning out, our hands of cards were a vanguard protecting and fanning out. But no ring fence was fixed around our lives and life is wayward, delightful, costly, hard. Screen Saver Under the trees on the the river's edge sit ducks as stuck and rounded as stones and which is which is hard to tell for both are shaped and formed by the river's flow. I've tried and tried to count them both they could all be stones sitting there or river bairns long gone but haunting the banks and races, the swirls and ponds. A single gull floats amongst the fallen leaves keeping living and dead with the time of…show more content…
Someone's knocked the tallies about and so abusing them I am not ever sure of what I count the rounded shapes of birds and stones still wonder which is what and what is which. Friday Has Doubts O do I really dare to be happy now? What past disappointments recalled in sorrow raise themselves to mouth their warnings at me? Surely I have been around long enough now and have seen all before but still it troubles. Some wiseacre has hoisted the warning buoy over many of my shipwrecks so he says. Much has sunk to the bottom into the past dreams and lives, oh yes sinking into the sand. Have I then only an unwinding sunset to look forward to now and where shall I go? What now will follow and does it have to end in a dubious certainty, surely not? Isn't it enough and really quite honourable to take it as given and to enjoy? If I dared to be happy would I be dreaming? Healing Leaves I found my living stream a long time ago knew both of its banks from their start to their end. Then were decisions made, new ages founded but most of all there I found my lasting friends. By the river, sometimes scurrying
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