The Cynic Speaks of Love

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A Sonnet for Cynics for Valentine’s Day

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The Cynic speaks of Love; What lie is this

But lust dressed up in silky swathes of lace

In pretty words, and promises of bliss

Come pouting in her petticoats, her face

All flushed with rouge and scarlet on a smile

With kohl around her cold come-hither eyes

Come lie with me, my love, a little while

She’ll say, and pat the bed, and part her thighs

And flash her stocking tops gone all awry

And secret places oh so sweetly blessed

And you’ll believe, the Cynic said, as I

Who once was by her magic so possessed

In Love, when she is nothing but a whore

That’s forty quid, she said, and that’s the door

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© Gail Foster 14th February 2018

Sorrow Weeps For Me

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In dusty cupboards, far from prying eyes

I hide my dark and private miseries

And dress for town in bright accessories

With reddened lips, and silkly stockinged thighs

And sickly smile, in magical disguise

For there be war to fight on days like these

Dark demons to defeat, and gods to please

And light to draw down from the sullen skies

In dusty cupboards, Sorrow weeps for me

There be no place for cowards in the fray

Nor dark despair, nor moaning misery

To dull my fire and fill me with dismay

Or worse, betray me to the enemy

– I’ll catch you later, Sorrow, I’m away…

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© Gail Foster 28th January 2017

Bullshit Nirvana

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for Steve Doolan

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Let the world turn as it will

‘Tis all the same to me

Blah Blah Bullshit Nirvana

Sweet, Sweet Epiphany

Bring on the empty horses

For ‘tis all a comedy

Blah Blah Bullshit Nirvana

Sweet, Sweet Epiphany

We come and then we go

We be and we not be

Blah Blah Bullshit Nirvana

Sweet, Sweet Epiphany

I’m a bloke at a bar, I am

A wild bird flying free

Blah Blah Bullshit Nirvana

Sweet, Sweet Epiphany

So I’ll have a lime and soda, ta

‘Tis all the same to me

Blah Blah Bullshit Nirvana

Sweet, Sweet Epiphany

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© Gail Foster 6th January 2017

Many Mansions; for Sister David Lewis

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Photograph of Sister David Lewis reproduced by kind permission of Scott Coleman

Sister David Lewis taught for many years at St. Joseph’s Catholic Primary School in Devizes in Wiltshire, and will be remembered by many with affection and gratitude. 

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I’m crying for a Catholic nun

Who once was kind to me

As I sat there in my miniskirt

Bad mother, C of E

“Sister David, the police came round

And battered down the door”

“Well, do you know, my dear,” she said

“I’ve heard that one before”

And she blessed me, without blinking

With a smile on her face

And I knew I was forgiven

Hail Mary, full of grace

And I can hear as clear as day

The words she said to me

“In my father’s house, my dear,

There many mansions be”

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© Gail Foster 29th December 2016

 

Waiting For You; The Return of the Light

Winter Solstice Sunrise 2016; Avebury, Wiltshire

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I have waited for you

Where no shadow seeps

Deep in the earth

Where the slow damp creeps

Under the stones

Where the sunlight sleeps

I have waited for you

 …

I have listened for you

In the eaglet’s cry

In the echoes of rooks

In the empty sky

In a new-born’s breath

And a dead man’s sigh

I have listened for you

 …

I have looked for you

Where the elders grow

Followed your steps

Through the virgin snow

Through groves of yew

And mistletoe

Looking for you

I have watched for you

By the door and the gate

Risen up early

And lain down late

Doubted your love

And cursed my fate

Watching for you

 …

You said you would come

You said that you will

Appear as the dawn

On the curve of the hill

I have waited for you

Through the dark, and the still

You said you would come

 …

I lit you a fire

I kindled a flame

In the fear of the darkness

I called out your name

I thought I was dying

And then you came

You said you would come

 …

And here you are

The promise of light

Sweetening silence

And softening night

And all shall be well

And be blesséd delight

You said you would come

 *

© Gail Foster 21st December 2016

 

 

 

‘Smoke and Roses’ and ‘Takin’ the Pith’

This week I published two books, which are available on Amazon and through Devizes Books

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The first, ‘Smoke and Roses’  is saucy, serious, and sweet, and the second, ‘Takin’ the Pith’, does exactly what it says on the tin.

I guess that ‘Smoke and Roses’ is my mythology.

Both contain poems and prose in different forms, and the language is edgy in both.

There will be some content that you have not read.

I hope you like them.

Thank you so much for your interest.

Gail

What’s it about for you, then?

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What’s it about for them, then

Loneliness, poverty, pain

Bang of the bailiff at the door

Death in a ditch in the rain

What is it like for the Joneses

Bigger and better you think

Posh port and pigs in blankets

Sick in the kitchen sink

What’s it about for him, then

A clock, and an empty chair

Picture of her on the mantelpiece

Candle smoke curls in the air

What is it like for her, do you think

Hairdo and heels and hurrah

Hampers and champers from Harrods

Packed in to Daddy’s car

What’s it about for the Christians

Return of the sacred child

Under a star in a stable bare

Jesus, meek and mild

What is it like for the Druids, then

Stood in the circle at dawn

Frost on the moss on frozen stone

Lit by the sun reborn

What’s it about for the children

Mysterious, glittery, bright

Hope of a mythic benevolence

Come as a thief in the night

 …

What is it like for us, then

Rushing and spending and stressing

Cursing the souls in the queue at the till

Kissing a friend with a blessing

 …

What will it be like for you, then

What will you will it to be

Riotous ostentation, or

Peace and sweet charity

 …

What it’s about for me is this

One white and holy dove

The silence after the shops have shut

And love

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© Gail Foster 3rd December 2016