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I’ve been reading ‘Night Letters’ for nearly 6 months now. At first I couldn’t work out what was happening but I persisted with the reading. Unconsciously it became an addiction, a sweet that you savour slowly to make it last. As much as I have to analyse it to tears with the kids I will merely treat it as an academic excercise that will not ruin my experience of the book. There are expressions of love that are woven through the book that made me scramble for some love poetry by the greats and I love this little poem by Maya Angelou:

When You Come by Maya Angelou

When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.

Offering me, as to a child, an attic,
Gatherings of days too few.
Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
Trunks of secret words,

I CRY.

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There are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who prey upon them with IBM eyes
And sell their hearts and guts for martinis at noon.
There are men too gentle for a savage world
Who dream instead of snow and children and Halloween
And wonder if the leaves will change their color soon.

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who anoint them for burial with greedy claws
And murder them for a merchant’s profit and gain.
There are men too gentle for a corporate world
Who dream instead of candied apples and ferris wheels
And pause to hear the distant whistle of a train.

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who devour them with eager appetite and search
For other men to prey upon and suck their childhood dry.
There are men too gentle for an accountant’s world
Who dream instead of Easter eggs and fragrant grass
And search for beauty in the mystery of the sky.

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who toss them like a lost and wounded dove.
Such gentle men are lonely in a merchant’s world,
Unless they have a gentle one to love.

by Patrick Kavanagh

Thanks for forwarding this Donagh

May in Ayemenem is a hot brooding month.

There is a truth universally acknowledged that a man in posession of a fortune is in need of a wife.

April is the cruelest month of all

Let us go then you and I…

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