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The Colours of My Mind
The Colours of My Mind
The Colours of My Mind
Ebook58 pages16 minutes

The Colours of My Mind

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In this collection of emotional and reflective verse, Coco Schreiber has dipped into the paint pot of her life and dolloped drops of colour on to the areas of her palette which seem to her to accommodate her memories and emotions: the colour blue for the ladies she has loved and lost; purple for comfortable adventures both here and abroad, seeking a pathway; yellow for the reflective aspects of her nature; grey to represent her hardest decision; and the red of a proud rose.
The poetry gives the reader a glimpse into Coco's heart, into her very being, and reveals her passionate and sensitive persona.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherA H Stockwell
Release dateDec 14, 2021
ISBN9780722351086
The Colours of My Mind

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    Book preview

    The Colours of My Mind - Coco Schreiber

    The Colours of My Mind

    Blue Waves

    On Sappho’s Isle

    Steamy hot afternoon air.

    Open windows.

    The dishevelled bedsheets greedily wrap their

    twisted lengths around our naked forms.

    Exhausted now – ribcage rises and falls out of sync

    with heartbeat, the one free arm pulses full length

    against a pillow, but softly.

    Head turns inward and rests against Lovely’s breast;

    hand cups its rounded fullness so strokingly gently

    and urges the firming strawberry top to her lips,

    expressing it carefully, sucking it dry.

    Knees slide over, hooking on, bodies now falling, one on one.

    Exploring hands pursue their curious investigation

    and drown in the warm depths of their goal.

    J’adore, J’adore

    Can’t go on like this – must stop thinking of you, miles away.

    I need distraction: shops, shops.

    Mustn’t go in there – the all-enveloping net of your

    perfume encircles my senses – I see its name writ

    large in lighted signs – it suffocates me, deliciously.

    Would that I could be there with you, spread over

    your body, smothering your pulsating so-tender

    spots, yearning for me to kiss them dry, perfume

    lingering in the air, two being one.

    Sherbet Fountains

    Arching backs, supple as never were, now bendy as willow wands moving to the caressing motion of strong hands bringing slumbering emotions to life in a hail of sherbet showers.

    The calling of her name

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