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Writer's pictureSpike Woods

Sound of Oranges. 11 Sept. 1967.

Lights in rain, drops of fire, stars in sparkled rims of gold

Etched in copper-tinged and coloured webs of leaves;

Sobbing crystals turning red, sprays of firework diamond flowers

Falling sadly in the country beyond time.

Coloured memories of rainbows, misty trees and mushroom shade,

Fragrant sunsets in the everlapping blood;

Tearing lacy sheets of membrane, smell the colour out of space,

Build a memory in the country beyond time

SOUND OF ORANGES;

PURPLE IMAGES;

RED AND GOLD AND AUBURN EDGES IN THE SILVER TINGLE AIR

AND IN THE MOUNTAINS OF THE GLOOM

A CHEQUERED PATTERN IN THE SKY –

World of sound, voice of God, moving needles in the night,

Cliffs that echo in the booming in the eye;

Sail an ark to carry vision on and endless stream of sound,

Live forever in the country beyond time



Written for my mother  who suffered detached retinas and became registered blind.

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