Home
ABOUT US
Recent Posts
- A Tribute To Burt Bacharach by Harriet Blackbury
- The Turning Year (Catching Up) by Harriet Blackbury
- A Tribute to Jeff Beck by Harriet Blackbury
- Old Memory Lane
- Some Memories of Lamont Herbert Dozier
- A Tribute to Olivia Newton-John by Harriet Blackbury
- Summer Afternoon Tea
- A Tribute to Judith Durham (The Seekers) by Harriet Blackbury
- The Heatwave of 22 by Harriet Blackbury
- Solidarity
Recent Comments
- Back And Forth on
- Back And Forth on
- Pitch Perfect on
- Pitch Perfect on
- For The Love Of Music on
Categories
- Animals (72)
- Family Life (284)
- Friendship and Trust (127)
- General information (3)
- Hope and Encouragement (169)
- Irony / Inevitability (140)
- Justice / Revenge (30)
- Laughter & Tears (32)
- Life/Living (196)
- Music (328)
- Nature (2)
- Nonsensical Madness (185)
- Obituary / Memorial (55)
- Radio (133)
- Reviews (7)
- Romance (220)
- Sport (145)
- Sunday Poems (15)
- Uncategorized (1)
POEM ARCHIVE
ONLINE SERVICES
BOOKS
Contact Us
Useful Links
April 9, 2014
I read something only yesterday
that made me think of you.
Today I received four photographs;
the writing on the envelope, I knew.
The snaps devoid of people;
one being of a dining table
laid out for Sunday lunch
whilst another had an empty sofa
near a vase with tulips in a bunch.
A third was of a large picture
hanging over a kitchen sink bowl.
The fourth, of course, contained
the window to your soul.
There was nothing written
on the reverse sides,
nor even a letter attached.
But I knew instinctively
you’d read the same article
and thought of me, and the
photo’s despatched.
The feeling was uncanny,
and proved to me once more,
that keeping in touch mentally
is as good as banging on any door.
No Comments »
No comments yet.
RSS feed for comments on this post.
Leave a comment
You must be logged in to post a comment.