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Harry Radcliffe Poems
Smile In Your Eyes
If I had the power at my command, I would carve you a snowflake in the palm of my hand. I would craft you a bed out of warm desert sands. But there is no way to show my devotion
I thought heaven was a place you went if you died, And yet I'm in heaven, when I stand at your side And I always keep listening, lest I hear your harp's strings When I put my arms round you, my hands look for your wings.
Distorted light and muffled sound, Snow is sprinkled on the ground. Nobody needs us, neither of us is pursued, Only the snow angels are allowed to intrude.
Sand In My Eyes
No amount of time could be enough together, I just wouldn’t be satisfied With infinity; or forever. I would have eternal life;
Usually with words I am spoilt for choice; But there isn't a birdsong that touches your voice. There are no earthy things that I can compare, The softest of silks cant describe your hair.
I will watch you spread your wings, And I will watch you fly. Away to bigger, better things Onto the rolling sky.
I keep all the photos, of the two of us together, Because photos never change, they stay the same, forever And I can look at all my photos, and I can look into your eyes I have seen each one before, so I am never surprised
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Smile In Your Eyes
If I had the power at my command,
I would carve you a snowflake in the palm of my hand.
I would craft you a bed out of warm desert sands.
But there is no way to show my devotion
Unless I weave you a dress from the tides of the ocean.
And by making these things my love would take form,
And I would give you a diamond from the ice of a storm.
And if I could forge you a mountain, raise it up from the ground,
Just by raising my arm, without making a sound.
Then from that day, would brush upon your cheeks:
A white-gold earring, from its snow-capped peaks. ...