Author Archives: Myrna Moore


Silence hammers at my door ‘Let me in.’ Let me in to make you Think Learn Feel Silence ushers in Forgotten joy and pain The joy is fleeting The pain lasting Like a freefalling feather Silence reaches the parts Others … Continue reading

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Early morning walk

After 40 years of living in England, my parents retired back to Jamaica, Montego Bay. My father’s routine was to have an early morning walk to experience the sun coming up. On our visit, we joined him and were overwhelmed … Continue reading

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Period Piece

This year, July 27 th we ‘celebrated’ our 45 th wedding Anniversary. I say ‘celebrate’, in actual fact – we forgot until our youngest daughter sent a message congratulating us. Funnily enough, I had marked it on the calendar, weeks … Continue reading

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Written and spoken by Myrna Moore They have always been there from Africa gleaming wood carved in praise And supplication. To Egypt immortalised in gold for the journey into eternity. Through China, Tibet, Indonesia and pre – Columbus Americas. They … Continue reading

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When The Morning Comes

Written and spoken by Myrna Moore   Clouds mass Birds swoop Catching the last of the last seeds from the tree People group Some stare Wondering what could be Could be different From now? They did not see They did … Continue reading

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You could say…

You could say: ‘They came, they saw, they conquered’ but that would not explain how they survived how they thrived Goodbye Farewell So long… bright light skies until… New skies grey – fog – smog drizzle Closed shores ‘No Irish, … Continue reading

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Beating to a different rhythm Listen The earth is breathing In Out In Out Trees steady their stance Branches quiver A pregnant pause Betwixt and between Creeping along the path A blue haze beckons As it stitches a luxuriant Curtain … Continue reading

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My skin prickles, my eyes glisten Turning my head, following its trajectory crab-like it crawls towards the door following its slithery tail Out of reach but glinting still Disappearing round the door Outside the smack of the sun glares Unable … Continue reading

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Archive of the Mind

Seeing the statue of Edward Colston removed in such a dramatic way, last week, felt like poetic justice though I would normally disapprove of daubing, let alone pulling down statues adorning the British landscape. Images of black children, men and … Continue reading

Posted in Prose | Tagged | 4 Comments

I Wasted Time

I wasted time. Now Time wastes me. I did not ask the questions. I waited until there was no more waiting. Fitting pieces together had never been my forte. As a child I was soon bored with Jigsaws. The thrill … Continue reading

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