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And I am…                                                     

 

looking through photos of days gone by

– your women – sharp intake of breath.

 

A caressing finger

tells me more

than words or deeds.

 

A hidden agenda

when revealed

shocks absolutely.

 

You laugh ‘Ha’ and say,

‘We’re talking about

20 years ago!’

OK, yes we are, but

 

in that moment

– in our time

you experience

pleasure –

that same tingle

you experienced

 

20 years ago

when your pen*s

responded

to a girl

everyone

lusted after.

 

And I am

 

…jealous.

 

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003

 

 

#FrancesMacaulayForde  #jealous  #poetry   #romance   #lovepoem  #love

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140814CrannogSummer_0001doc

 

This is an example of why I look forward to receiving my copy of the latest  Crannog Magazine.  I also submit short stories and poetry, hoping one day to find a piece of my own nestled between the gems I enjoy in each issue.

140814CrannogSummer_0002doc

It’s inspiring to discover new (to me) writers.  I am now a fan of Maggie Breen and will have to add “Other Things I Didn’t Tell” to my wish list

#FrancesMacaulayForde  #Crannog36  #IrishMagazine  #Poretry  #ShortStories   #MaggieBreen  #OtherThingsIDidntTell

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My 40th Party – 1990

Welcome to September, an expensive month with the most birthdays of family and friends – and my own.

It was difficult for my daughter to fit in an afternoon tea to celebrate mine – so it’ll be a week late.   It’s Father’s Day the same weekend and since the divorce, naturally it’s a separate thing…

Seven September birthdays in all; two of my brothers (one turning the big seven ‘Oh’), my beautiful daughter-in-law and 3 very good friends.

I think Mum and Dad must have made sure they were together over Christmas to have three September babies, but then Christmas has always been a big social occasion in our family.

My dad’s birthday was New Year’s Eve so although we’d be spread around town celebrating with our friends, we always met up at midnight to raise a glass to dad.

I can always tell a Virgo or a Librian… or a Capricorn.   This 1973 poem is another from my 1968 notebook.

 

Did you know?

 

Did you know that Cancer

was compatible with Virgo?

No?

Well, it is.

So now, you

should take notice of me.

 

You’re so tall

you have to bend

to come through the door.

 

I’m so small

I have to jump

to reach the top shelf.

 

Funny, hey, that I

should fancy you

for myself?

 

And me,

so near the floor…

 

How’s the weather up there?

Do you know I care?

 

Well, I do.

 

I like an awful lot of things about you;

your blond hair, blue eyes and glasses.

 

Your big nose!

 

Even your massive

size ten feet

and huge toes.

 

Like thick fingers,

they’ve got character.

 

I tried on your shoes the other day

and shook with laughter.

 

They made me feel all feminine

because mine were so small,

compared…

 

I don’t even reach your shoulder

in platforms!

 

And yet…

 

When you hold me

or kiss me

or anything,

I feel nice.

 

All protected and loved

and I trust you,

completely

even when you’re driving

and you know how nervous I am

normally…

 

So you see,

the difference in height

doesn’t mean a thing, really

– does it?

 

Do you believe in the ‘Stars’?

 

Well, I do…

but that wasn’t why

I fell in love

with you.

 

Frances Macaulay Forde © 1973

 

#FrancesMacaulayForde  #Romance  #LovePoems  #Poems  #love  #Virgo   #Capricorn  #Libra  #birthdays

 

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Catalogue---Distain

distain

 

Your contempt for my feelings

broke something inside – no, not

my heart, it was my soul…  You

 

judged me harshly, unworthy –

beneath your regard. In total

disgrace, I slunk away to heal.

 

I needed to breathe deeply,

to absorb the pain, swallow

before wearing silk again…

  

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2011

ART:  Jessica McCallum

 

#FrancesMacaulayForde  #JessicaMcCallum  #ArtAsTheSpark  #Romance  #Love  #Poems  #LovePoems  #ArtPoems  #Art

 

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Isn’t it great that you can still have dolls repaired? In South Sydney, the  Chapman family  have been bringing favorite toys back to life for 101 years.   I love the idea of NOT being disposable…  wish we’d all go back to favorites again.

76Jess4months 001

My daughter’s favorite was a pink and white Panda made for me by a grateful patient when I was nursing in Harrogate General, way back in 1969. Only natural that I would pass it on to my beautiful daughter in 1976.   Before I traveled to Ireland in 2002 I carefully packed it away with lots of stuffed toys in a storage box marked especially and guess what – that was the one that went missing.  Wish we still had the panda because I know my little grandie Bella, would love it!

The whole subject reminded me of a very favorite poem by Pam Ayres – I’ve been a huge fan for many, many years 🙂  I used to watch her TV program but also went to her concert here in Perth many years ago and presented her with a golly which I’d made, for her new son.  She kindly wrote back from UK to say he loved it – “has become a favourite!”  

And that favorite poem (just one of very many) by Pam?   ‘Dolly on the Dustcart’   read by Pam Ayres.

 

#FrancesMacaulayForde  #PamAyres  #DollyOnTheDustcart  #DollsHospital   #Recycling  #AustralianDollHospital #poetry

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06FMF Postcard 16

A while ago, I was introduced to the French Cinquain and fell in love.  The rhythm and structure seems to flow easily for me, so I wrote quite a few.  This one is from a series of five written after a workshop in 2002.

The photo was taken when my sister-in-law Hazel and I had lunch in a little restaurant on South Perth foreshore, with views over the mighty Swan River to Perth City, on a foggy Autumn Day.

 

#FrancesMacaulayForde  #PoetryPostcards  #Cinquains  #Poetry  #FrenchPoetry  #Trust  #Romance  #LovePoems  #SouthPerth  #PerthCity  #SwanRiver

 

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HeartsPinkRedSmall

I learnt an embarrassing lesson yesterday; don’t rush!

I hit the ‘publish’ button like I would the ‘enter’ button – big mistake!  Unconcerned, I thought I’d just correct and ‘Update’ which, of course, I did in seconds.

Embarrassingly the preview of the blog post (goes everywhere!) stayed as the original un-edited version although when ‘read more’ was clicked, the corrected version appeared!

Lesson well and truly learnt!  Writing and posting when you’re tired or in a rush – just don’t do it!  I do sincerely apologize.

Hopefully I can make amends with a poem written before love returned to my life.

 

DOORS CLOSING

How often has the door closed on opportunity for me?

And how many times have I shut it?

 

‘Well, open it again.’ You say.  Not so easy

when it is wedged with prejudice.

 

Locked with lies about your femininity

and jammed with judicial errors.

 

I am an opportunist and I do believe

as one door closes, another… you know.

 

But sometimes, for my sanity, I take

the easy way out.  My heart’s the same.

 

I’m not brave in letting that door stand ajar.

The solid barrier protecting my comfort zone.

 

A jack-hammer wouldn’t be heard now!

I’m deaf to desire and numb to need.

 

The woolen blanket around my feelings keeps me warm.

I lock the door, pocket the key, work and love in secret.

 

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2000

 

#FrancesMacaulayForde  #Poem  #LovePoem  #Poetry  #Romance  #ComfortZone  #Desire  #DoorsClosing  #Lessons

 

 

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140718Notebook1968 001w

Before we met,

my heart was young,

it showed its reactions

to everyone.

 

Worn on my sleeve,

it was easy to know,

easy to see feelings

come and go.

 

But since we’ve met,

my heart’s a closed door,

no-one knows the hurt

or happiness anymore.

 

Not even you – and you

hold the key but what

is the good when

you don’t love me?

Frances Macaulay Forde @ 1965

#francesmacaulayforde  #1968notebook  #lovepoems  #love  #poems  #poetry  #romance  #follow  #instagram  #twitter

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RRRoadsS

Artwork © Jessica McCallum

ROAD RIBBONS TO FOREVER

still cold the orb lay low

quick glimpse then hidden

motor climbing to drown

crow’s haunting early wake-up call

blades of light chop dust and dirt

wheels trundle

bodies bounce

over troughs and ridges

 

silent stands of hewn wood

strangled by checked metal string

strung as divided zones

of labour or fields of food

for slow-moving wool-balls

unaffected by those

who pass once in a changing

between ghost gums

wind-dancing

 

don’t press the soft start

for raucous interruption

no technological intrusion

to spoil the quietness

of morning impressions

 

but watch silently

anticipating adventure

 

time seems to slumber

in camera shots

too fast moving past

before fully absorbed

an erect neck now tired

of turning back with regret

high sun and heat

decreasing

petrol gauge as low horizon

never nearer not revealing

road ribbons to forever

 

our slumberous gazes

glazed with scenes

of shadows lit

by white-moon shafts

squinting at the yellow

twin-tunnelled path

flexing muscles cramped

shivering with want

the first new glimpse

of home

 

Frances Macaulay Forde @ 1999

1st published  ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’, Ireland, 2003.

 

#FrancesMacaulayForde  #Poem  #Poetry  #WesternAustralia  #SunsetDriving  #HiddenCapacity

 

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Cows in Barryscourt 2

You Stare At Me

 

you stare at me

benevolent eye

knowing why

I am here

what I will do

to you

 

wear your skin

drink you dry

pasteurise   cream

strain and grain

make holes in

blue and vein

 

you stare at me

benevolent eye

knowing why

I am here

what I will do

to you

 

slice and dice

grind your bones

roast and fry

muscle for burgers

liver for onions

kidney for pies

 

and that eye

that eye

that eye

 

a delicacy!

 

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2011

#FrancesMacaulayForde   #POEM:YouStareAtMe  #Barryscourt  #Vegetarians  #Cows  #Steak  #Cork  #Kidney  #Burgers  #Delicacy

 

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