Marilyn Redcoma George


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Born on a day, in a month, in a year
that equalises me to one,
not that I wander lonely
under the rising sun.
From the northern climes of London town
my birth cry lifted flocks,
attended primary and secondary modern
English was always my creative touch.
But alas I became too logical
thinking in ifs and thens,
computer code and mathematics became... more »

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Best Poem of Marilyn Redcoma George

My Cradled Child

When the reflection in the mirror
faded to black and the sirens in
the hills malaise-d, the windows
could not shut not quick, unlike
the door that echoed safe.

Believe the dark, the snuffed
out light, and shiny whites that
bounced the moon to shadows
exposed by passing cloud to
etch the hidden in the gloom.

It was as though a silence
fell, soon to be broken by a cry
of a baby who knew not why
their bed side lamp with amber
glow, cast spider webs across the wall.

And now the terror and so the fear
the whistle whispered in the ...

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