Rani Turton Poems

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Silence. Long moments that stretch into years.
Restrained words, sometimes gaps where names should be.
Words, prayers, songs, imagination inflamed by memory.

A Mad Bird Was I

I walked down that lonely road
That sinuous, torturous bend
You know how I hated
The cold, the distance, my thoughts.

You'll Be My Knight In Shining Armour

You'll be my knight in shining armour
Shining so bright I can hardly see
The sunlight because of thee

A Niche For Me In Your Heart

If you have some place
Some place you could well spare
Make a niche for me in your heart
To warm me within your space

A Wooden Door, A Metal Key

A plain wooden door, nerve-ridden
A carved metal key, in my pocket hidden.

And secrets that lie behind that blank facade

Artisan Of Words

I am an artisan of words
Which I sculpt, chisel and fashion the way I can
I am a creator of worlds;
I pour my emotion into the poems I write.

And Eternity Did Not Push Me Away

Starlight, moonlight, candles burning bright
Oil lamps with flickering wicks
All this symbolises night

My Father, With His Arthritic Hands

My father, with his arthritic hands
Closes his door, picks up the bow
Tucks the bit under his chin
Tunes it real low

Dusk Comes

Dusk comes, softly, slowly, like a shy bride
Dusk comes with a golden-red veil as if to hide
The diamonds in the hair, the khol in the eyes
Heat arises from the earth and flies

Draw The Blinds, Time

Draw the blinds, Time
Its time enough and enough
Time to grieve: I do not want
The sun to weighten closed lids;

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