The Truth About Lies
Sunday, 13 August 2017

Ten years after

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All good things come to an end, and all bad things, too, one supposes, and, as a matter of course, the noncommittal and the inconsequential...
23 comments:
Wednesday, 9 August 2017

#752

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The North Sea It's strange how such a cold and formidable thing reminds me of you, its icy breakers failing on a beach we'...
Sunday, 6 August 2017

#751

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The Dawning (for Cilla) Albeit far away I still sense you – a silent warmth that stirs me to life – I know you're behind me an...
Wednesday, 2 August 2017

#750

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Sticks and Stones They say lots of things and some of them are true. They say love is blind but it's them that can't see. ...
Sunday, 30 July 2017

#749

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Blindness (for Cilla) They say love is blind to truth so tell me the truth: what is it you see? Let me hold the words. I need to...
Thursday, 27 July 2017

#748

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Souvenir (for Cilla) Was it with words or a kiss we tossed it away, that part inside us both that's gone for good? Or did t...
2 comments:
Sunday, 23 July 2017

#747

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The Visitor (for J.) He said he was a ‘visitor.’ She didn’t know the expression but then there was no one to ask: her world was e...
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About Me

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Jim Murdoch
I am a 63-year-old Scottish writer. I was a poet for twenty years before I stumbled into novel writing, however, I’m currently back writing poetry like it's going out of fashion.
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