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Janice Windle Poems
(For Dónall) Love song
I sat sweating in my July hat your leg warm on mine, your smile glowing near my cheek,
(For Dónall) Gifts
You give me poems speaking truths, living pictures that dance for me;
Driving to Southampton
Long shadows this bright November morning. Sun
(Growing Pains) Age Shall Not...
Aging, I look in the mirror. There I see my future etched in lines that my fingertips struggle to accept.
(For Dónall) In dark night
(For Dónall) On Buying new Lingerie......
On Spending an Exceedingly Long Time in Debenham’s Lingerie Department Buying Bigger Underwear After the Usual Christmas Indulgence Despite Dónall’s Kind Assurances That It is AS HE LIKES IT! I’m busy in the changing room choosing bras, to fit my bigger,
(For Dónall) One of Those Nights (1)
It was one of those nights when clouds hid the moon, when you said, 'Come to bed, love, ' and I answered, 'Soon...' as I opened the windows on Facebook and Myspace and started to blog, and our love was in second place
(Winter Poems) Dreaming of a White Chri...
Has it all been said? The Winter Wonderland, the landscape under coverlet, dreaming in a soft white bed.
(For Dónall) Green Fingers
(For Dónall) Portrait of a Poet, Sl...
Turning her head she finds his sleeping face a few inches from hers. A moment to hold in her mind’s gallery. Immobile, peaceful, open to her calm inspection,
(For Dónall) Magellation
This poem was written in the first couple of weeks after I met Dónall and it's based on my mishearing of the word 'modulation' - the word he used for the easy transmuting of one mode, one mood, into another, which the two of us experienced in our communicaions with each other. I think my new word, 'magellation' means the magic of easy communication though words and touch, which we have found with each other from the start. This is the poem:
(Italian Collection) Christ and the Adu...
This poem was inspired by the painting by Rocco Marconi (active in Venice 1504 - 1526) in the Academia Art Gallery in Venice, where I drew the expressive faces of the onlookers to the drama of Christ rescuing the adultress from the harsh law which would have had her stoned to death. 'I am an exotic gift, pearls in braided honey hair. I gather my coral wrappings about my satin shoulders,
(Stuff and Nonsense) You are Old, Mrs...
You are old, Mrs. Windle, the schoolchildren cried, and you really are not very cool. Yet you write and you paint and you teach on the side - do you think that you should be in school?
(Ups and Downs Collection) .... Giving U...
Easy to give up, when you’ve been given up on. Easy to step into the shade, avoid harsh light that points up the errors that you’ve made.
(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)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(For Dónall) Love song
sweating in my July hat
your leg warm on mine,
your smile glowing near my cheek,
your song, that I fancied only I could hear,
opening my heart like a flower
to the sun.
No harm can be done
If I sculpt with my hands
Your curving hips;
With my tongue, part
Your waiting lips;
Reframe your sexuality
So that it’s powered by
Our loving needs.”
And all the heated day
I’m falling, falling, falling,
believing you will catch me
in your soft net.