Lesley Merrin

Despairing, the rain reflects my mood,
I wander aimlessly looking for shelter,
A sign catches my eye,
ART GALLERY.
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The purple cyclamens bloom.
She's not there to tend them:
They grow awry
Not cultivated as before.
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I wrote this poem when a girl at my school got beaten up by other girls after daring to go for a night out to another village near her own.

I left the house looking for fun
My mum shouted out 'Don't be long.'
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My son is tall and handsome,
My heart he tries to break
By staying out all night.
'Oh for Heaven's sake........'
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The missing piece, found.
Relieved.
It clicked into place
It made the picture whole, complete.
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Yesterday she committed suicide

Barrier tape everywhere,
What did she have to fear?
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Blush Red with lips a tingle
The passionate kiss we shared.

Silver baubles on the tree
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Unbridled,
I fly in the face of my defence,
Reminisces are never the full story,
Just tortured thoughts collected retrospectively.
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Have you ever wanted to reach out to someone,
Tell them everything will be alright,
Help them through a bad time?
Yet you can't quite reach
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The garden was a shock
Always beautiful before,
The lawn was parched and dry, before lush and green
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I wrote this when I kept seeing this name in graffiti on several walls. The graffiti said Vicky B and Chee(Which is my son's nickname)
He denied all knowledge and then I had a dream where my son said 'will i keep my shoes on when I meet Vicky B.'
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Black sculptured face,
Black and green as if bruised,
Layered, Lumpy, Brittle, Black.
Black as a dungeon, black as death,
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Oh little dove so saddened
Thou looks upon like me
The garden left untended,
Dost thou rememberest She?
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