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| A gentle light A pleasing sound A lovely place A settled ground Nothing moves Except my smile As I think of you All the while. Lynne Fredlund Oxford 1993 |
| All The While |
| Desperate Voice |
| It was a desperate voice On the telephone With a hint of panic. Did you know I cried For you A million times In my safe house? While you suffered I dispaired. While you continued to suffer I feared for your state of mind and the cruel things You accepted. I wanted to change things But I could not. I tried to get you To leave. But I could not. You stayed and suffered. I cried a million tears for you. With a hint of panic. I waited. But you waited too. And stayed. In desperation I stayed On the telephone Listening to your voice. It was a desperate voice. With a hint of panic. Lynne Fredlund Oxford 1996 |
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| POETRY |
| Faded Moments |
| Faded moments ate my thoughts And robbed me of my past. Clear ideas and crystal minds Brought me back at last. Lynne Fredlund Oxford 1993 |
| The Moon |
| The moon Poised On the edge of the world. Toppled Into the black landscape. The rain Splashed Bluring the images On the windscreen Crumpled. Reality had another Place to go And the moon Rose. Lynne Fredlund Oxford 1996 |
| The House by The Fire Mountain |
| The house by the fire mountain Is going away, It's escape escapes without me Standing solid in country It is going away. The place that was always Is going away Becoming never and without me Murmering medieval chants Against wamish intrusion. I remember the day it began To be there. It stood many moments Before I chanced along. Yet it waited for me. The house by the fire mountain Belongs to the past To childhood and menories To loving times together With a family grown but young. It sold it's courage to me For eternity. And now it is going away, Deserted it will change It will die to be born again Into tommorrow with others Those who know not. It will live again A life that belongs elswhere, The house by the fire mountain. Lynne Fredlund Oxford 1991 |
| One Day |
| Can one day hold another? Can time grow into tommorrow Without loosing each day gone by? Can one day hold another Providing hope for tommorrow? Or is each moment alone? I have laid out my life On roller skates Each moment taking me Into another day Without a plan for tommorrow Keeping open my moments alone. I have planned out my life. Fixing the days. Long term hours leading to years. And they have been squashed. No permission for tommorrow. Each day has its plan alone. I don't want to close time. Can one day hold another Giving tommorrow a chance? Each moment must become years Without stopping tommorrow Becoming new time, I have planned out my fixed time Giving each moment a chance To take root, or to florish, Or to blow away each day Bringing in life, not fixed, Like time on the face of a clock. Lynne Fredlund Oxford 1988 |
| The Walloon |
| I'll wallop the walloon Who's wame will wamble When his walie hand is wampish Without reason. Lynne Fredlund Oxford 1988 |
| Suffering From The Silence |
| I'm suffering from the silence That creeps up from behind And cuts my throat with its sharpness As it digs into my mind. I'm numb with a lack of sound As others shriek and shout. It all sounds very empty As I try to edge my voice out. Lynne Fredlund Oxford 1988 |
| Dear Reader, More Poems will be added soon. Keep checking this page out I have lots more poems to add ... I hope you have enjoyed the selection so far. If you want to recieve one of my newsletters click on the photo to the left. Cheers Lynne (Fredlund) X X X |
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