Sandra Kavanagh Josefsson Poems

Piles of books on the floor.
Darkened curtains hanging on the rails.
Cups of half-drunken tea to be seen.
Drops of water dripping into the pails.
...

If I could turn back the clock
and revisit that day.
Things would be different.
I would know the right words to say.
...

A simple flower is all I want.
Not bouquets of roses or jewels.
A simple tulip or daffodil
Or one of the violets at the foot of the mill.
...

Uncage your heart
and let me see,
the secrets you hold within.
Give me the key,
...

Look into my eyes
and tell me that you care.
Look into my eyes and tell me
that you will be there.
...

Thunder and Lightning
was frightening when we were small.
Now we are older and a little bolder.
It does not seem to matter at all.
...

Here I am,
the three faces of the Moon.
Clearing the ancestral trauma,
amongst the ruins.
...

She said her favourite colour was skyblue,
that was before you.
That was after a time of trauma,
And when everything was new.
...

Over Dublin's Rooftops,
I see St Michan's Church,
and the Liffey to its right.
I see the tower of Irish Whiskey
...

In the loneliness of the night.
when everything is quiet,
and all you hear is the wind,
tapping lightly on your window pane,
...