Who is Sylvia? …

I had awoken early and was watching the sunrise through the bedroom window. Most nights I dream about Molly and this night had been no exception. In my drowsy state the memories were still vivid and very very real; so Sylvia helped condense them into verse!


Sylvia waits by the window,
As the sun slowly reddens the sky.

She’s silent and still by the window,
And her presence it moves me to cry.

My Molly would sit by the window
And gaze down in the street for a while.

I’d massage her face by the window,
She’d relax and with pleasure she’d smile.

I’d stroke and look out the window,
Chat to Molly about passers by.

There’s so much to see through the window.
Oh why Molly why did you die?

My tears are like rain on the window,
They dry when the sun fills the sky.

And Sylvia still stands by the window,
Makes no sound not even a sigh.

But Sylvia smiles out through the window,
Reminds me life doesn’t stand still.

This mannequin stands by my window,
A reminder we all have free will.

So if you look into my window,
It could be I’m ravaged and sad.

But glance once again through my window,
You might find me happy and glad.

If you would like to hear me reading this poem then click  here alternatively you might feel your time is better spent looking at pictures of traffic jams, if so click here!!

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