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Poetry: Love Letters - Louise Gardiner

Writing
Friday, 5th November 2010
Louise is a third-year English and History of Art student. She has been writing since she was a child, but more specifically has been writing poetry since she was in her mid-to-late teens.

“I draw upon my own experiences of life and transfer them into my work. Love is often my main source of inspiration, yet much of work is self-reflective and autobiographical. Music often inspires me, which I think is why my poetry is rhythmically driven.

When I write poetry, I suppose I use my computer keyboard like a musical instrument in that I often write about 10-15 poems at a time. "Love Letters" was inspired by my first relationship when I was 17 years old with a fellow writer. The exchange of hand written mail (letters, cards and creative writings) was our main source of communication over a period of four years. The relationship decayed much like some of the letters, but ultimately both of them remain.

Love Letters

As my room is lived in

my past is read

inside the walls of ruin

remnants of love are hid

in torn envelopes

backs of broken draws

underneath mattresses

and wrapped in clothes

some are ripped in pieces

others splattered with rain

aged like the weary seasons

as if dressed in a coat of pain

each of them are treasured

moments captured in ink

touched as well as tendered

as if smelt across his nape

for every seal has been broken

yet the strands of hair remain

the memory bank has awoken

each time I notice your name

for time has moved us apart

yet the past has lingered on

love is always in the heart

in that of many letters hid

A Lover's Autumn

We pass through leaves

of gold and old time

those that have blown

from the trees to the ground

have set aside a view

but for us only to reform

a camouflage of colours

a sequence for something new

Muse

Am I just a muse to you

To keep your hand flowing?

Completely broken inside

You don’t seem to mind'

'the muse that keeps you going

A Landscape of Love

As I can see the tinfoil sky

the ruffled trees in rows

I can see your dancing eyes

that speak to me so freely

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