Helen K Thomson


Poetry Last nightThick cloud, had wrapped itselfAround the farm. I climbed the trackWith half closed eyes. Pierce not this softness, single star!Pierce not!I cannot bear your sharpness!Keep it away from me!Do not touch my tender selfFor my foolish heart is broken. I can only hear the silenceAnd my boots on the tiny stones of the …

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On the Path

Poetry You began to walk, by my side.We were both broken. I was cold, and you wrapped a blanket round my shoulderssaying,‘It’s ok. Let’s walk together for a while and see where we go.’I agreed and took your large rough hand in mine.