COLD PRESS

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Montreal, Quebec, Canada
i wrote some books and gave away library. i like to think that every poem is a love poem. i believe that "No" is a full sentence. i used to collect old books and young cats. i don't like noisy people, places or things. my three favourite words: yes, please, thank you. my favourite punctuation mark is the colon: i have a beautiful cat, a bicycle, an old typewriter, and a ladle. these things make me happy.
Showing posts with label gwen beauregard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gwen beauregard. Show all posts

Saturday, August 13, 2011





The Kindness of Water


Pencil in my life with gentle strokes,
In water colours of pale blues, and tawny yellows.
I'll pencil in your life with watery memories
Of all the good times we both knew.
Use an eraser, while I forgive that I forgot
That you have loved, and that I have too.
And when we meet again, at the end of some
Train of thought, we will smile to one another.
Let us pencil in our memories,
With kindness and forethought.



(c)Gwen Beauregard - 2010 - All Rights Reserved




Friday, August 12, 2011


Wherein, upon visiting our local art gallery, the horse keeled over and died laughing.


Much closer to the unadulterated truth.




Friday, March 04, 2011

BLOGGING FEAR

Saturday, May 15, 2004

Whenever I'm afraid, I think of Guillaume Apollinaire
who wrote:

Merlin motioned, "Come to the edge."

But they held back and said, "It's dangerous."

He beckoned, "Come to the edge."

And they said, "We may fall."

Then he commanded, "Come to the edge!"

So, they went to the edge and he pushed them...
And they flew.

Well, that's just about how I am feeling right now.
I don't know where I am going just yet, but I am at the edge,
trying something new. Maybe I'll fall. But then, maybe I'll fly.
I won't know until I try. The only difference is that I don't
have a Merlin to push me, I'm pushing myself.

Posted by Gwen Beauregard at 5/15/2004 08:20:00 PM

Monday, February 14, 2011




NIGHTS IN A CITY

Slowly it sneaks
Like a monster it crawls,
And silently it snatches
All in its claws.

It covers the sun
And shadows the streets.
Night has come
To the city that sleeps.


(c)Gwen Beauregard - 1956 - All Rights Reserved


THEME IN YELLOW

A ray of sunshine
Danced on the tawny veal
And made
Saffron acorn squash
Placed beside the buttered corn
Appear sallow by comparison


~*~*~


HUNTER'S DAWN

Brilliant gold slashing through the
blue mist of morn'
Dispersing the dew-stoned gray of predawn
Vibrant streaks of blinding yellow
Slash through the overhang of trees
And the world is born
Anew to light


~*~*~

(c) Gwen Beauregard - 1957 - All Rights Reserved

Wounded Child


Sunday, February 13, 2011

Quotes

~*~*~*~


Time wounds all heels
and not a few bloggers too.

~ Gwen Beauregard


~*~*~*~