From the recording Through the Door

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Skimming Stones

The poetry rocks
And the rivers don’t stop
And I’m takin’ a break in a stream
Reflections of love
Watch the flights of a dove
‘Till I’m not even sure what I mean

But, if I were her,
I’d close my window,
And, if I were her,
I’d lock my door,
And, if I were me,
I’d watch you searchin’
For the best stone to skim on her

Half-moon pretences
Invisible fences
And flowers that symbolise us
Light up the heavens
And count up to seven
And show us whatever we trust


Treetops of old
Watch my story unfold
And they whisper their different endings to me
I shake out their shivers
And I call little rivers
And I tell them “Go and talk to the sea”


Copyright © 2006 Marie Conniffe