1
West Country Woman.
West Country Woman,
Hair wilder than moorland bracken,
Face redder than solstice fire;
I will not forget your peppery laughter,
Your sealskin hands,
Your restless eyes.
You touched me to the quick
With your snide and insolent words
That Sunday last November.
You had lit a flame in the heather,
A raw, storm frenzied beacon,
To draw my barque to the shallows
Where the jagged rocks lay waiting,
Stone dragons concealing their claws.
I had once dreamed you were my lover,
But I now know you are merely a robber,
A snatcher of hearts and of chattels,
A wrecker of ship loads of lives.
I once dreamed that we two should marry,
But your tongue is a thorn bush of lies.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
June 10th. - 11th. - 12th. - 13th. 2014.
Torquay, Devon.
Amended January 11th. 2020.
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2
The Painting.
black on black on black on black
black dissolving into grey
black on black on black on black
white
grey
blue evolving into grey
white
black on black on black on black
grey
blue
no semblance of a human face
no trace of me or you
Trevor John Karsavin Potter
June 16th. 2014.
Recalling a visit to an art gallery with Layla.
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Torn Pages. Completed Collage.
The different textures of the materials is what is important along with the placement of the colours.

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If I were a camera I would zoom in directly On winter trees loud with anthracite crows, The ice white ripples on a cold shallow lake; The da...
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Buying incense by moonlight - The swiftly jostling crowds are all strangers. I walk slowly through the mob Eyes tracking my footsteps becaus...
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Flicking through pages on my mobile phone I study photos of the summer just gone - Birthday flowers placed in a vase by the ...
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