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  • © 2013 Sigman Shapiro All Rights Reserved

Julia Panton

Originally posted April 16, 2011

Introducing Julia Panton

The next two poems were submitted by Julia Panton.

Julia is originally from London, England but has exchanged the City life for the peaceful countryside of the West of Ireland.  Now engaged in shenanigans of a different colour entirely she devotes as much of her time to writing as possible.

Once again a truly talented voice has come forward and generously offered to share their words with all of us.

4.15 Shooting Star

A stroke of light sliced the night sky,

its fine tail bled beyond to black and gone

and a whispering screech of a blind night bird

broke the thick, silent black-scape.

A piece of moon hung orange ahead,

A segment, bright in a pithy citrus cloud

and the stoic mountain, with an arm-fold stare,

frowned on belief in grant of wish or plea.

But I am touched by the seldom seen,

Such rarity lost on a cold well seasoned peak

and I am gently judged a frail, failing being

benignly allowed frailties and a crumbling system of belief.

 

Keepsake I

I am small. A charm. Pocket sized. I could fit into the palm of your hand.

You could fold your fingers around me and I could disappear.

Gripped by you I’d be paralysed, your plaything, struggling and loving that I can’t escape.

Toy with me. Keep me in your pocket, hiding there, just for times of

need.

Turn me over and over, repeat your mantra, feeling my limbs bend and flex with your touch.

Fingering and working me through your fingers, lost in your own thoughts of me. Remembering.

Hold me against your face. Whisper to me. Tell me your deepest,

darkest dreams.

Shape me, let me fit against your jaw as you speak. Let me be your

receiver. Let me listen.

When your head is resting on your pillow, your dreams will be disturbed.

I, languid, will drape myself across your face and stroke your cheek.

Tangling my legs in your hair and smooth your eyelids, playing with your lashes.

My tiny hands will play with your soft lips, watching them part as our kiss becomes part of your dream.

I will sleep, allowing your cooling breath to flow over my body.

I roll across the fleshy mound beneath your thumb.

I play along your lifeline, tripping and dancing, skipping from side to side.

I am peeking, playful through your fingers and curling them around me.

I am bound in your protective fist.

© 2011 Julia Panton All Rights Reserved

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