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Anne Frandi-Coory 2
Who’s That Pretty Girl In White?
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Poem Who’s That Pretty Girl In White?  and Image Copyright  To Anne Frandi-Coory

– All Rights Reserved 26 May 2013

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A photo floated from nowhere

on it as fresh as a daisy

such a sweet young girl

the memory of a time hazy

Is that really me?

She questioned all who saw.

surely not that lovely

memories still so raw.

For wouldn’t they have loved

one so sweet and true

eyes shining, smile bright?

No. How could love ensue

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Read the rest of my poem  *Who’s That Pretty Girl In White?

here in DRAGONS DESERTS and DREAMS

2nd edition published 2020

Now Available

 here at AMAZON in Kindle e book or paperback 

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

The Chosen One

At the horizon I see the clear sky melting
into an azure mirror of the ancient sea
I take a smooth rock, carefully selected
break the silence by throwing it away.

An exercise in torpid deliberation,
I ask of the chosen stone to make me proud
and so it does, skipping, walking on water,
my own personal Jesus.

Wandering along the beaches of yesterday
I reflect on the past and pray in isolation
that the worries of the world will dissipate
like the ebbing of the tide.

Ghostly fingertips of salty coolness
caress my face and entice me to turn.
But when I look back, all I see
are my lonely footprints in the sands of fate

At that moment I realise the stone and I
have a situation in parallel
Both of us falling in an ocean of sorts
Each of us worn down by the elements of our existence

Once I skipped and danced the waves,
The breakers a force to ride to shore.
But now I fear my momentum has ebbed
And I’m sinking, drowning in self doubt

Submerged in my depths I find peace,
no longer at the mercy of ethereal forces.
Still. Tranquil. Undisturbed.
I whisper a silent prayer.
That I will soon rise again.

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Collaborative poem by:
*brudberg *MyVogonPoetry *vivchook *jdubqca *troublegummer *Permabloom *afcoory

Painting by Anne Frandi-Coory

*****A short story *Immigration And The Promise*  Copyright To Anne Frandi-Coory – All Rights Reserved 17 January 2013*****

*****This page is copyright to author Anne Frandi-Coory. No text or photographs can be copied or downloaded from this page without the written permission of Anne Frandi-Coory.*****

jacob eva blog

Anne Frandi-Coory’s paternal Lebanese grandparents,        Jacob & Eva Coory (Fahkrey) soon after they arrived in Melbourne c. 1897

…..But you should also be proud that your mothers and fathers came from a land upon which God laid his gracious hand and raised his messengers.From a speech by Khalil Gibran  I believe in you (1926)

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Immigration And The Promise – “I love this moving piece on immigration by Anne Frandi-Coory … This is quality story-telling”

-Mark Swain UK. More here about books by Mark Swain: https://www.amazon.com/Mark-Swain/e/B008DRKT2G%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share

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More reviews about Anne Frandi-Coory’s poems and short stories here in:

DRAGONS, DESERTS and DREAMS

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The first two paragraphs of a short story Immigration and The Promise by Anne Frandi-Coory…

Jacob’s new business venture was all contained in the leather suitcase the Chinaman in Little Bourke Street had made for him. He said goodbye to Eva and set off down the stairs and out into a chilly winter morning. He planned to begin selling his wares to domestic households in and around the suburb of Fitzroy. All he had to say to customers in English was ‘Buy something lady?’ and ‘Thank you lady.’  All was going well until a policeman demanded to see his hawker’s licence. ‘Well, you must get a licence! A licence! No more knocking until you get a licence! Do you understand?’  Jacob just nodded and handed him the piece of paper Mr Kahlil had given him with his address on it and a rough map of city streets. Unbeknown to Jacob, the ‘White Australia Policy’ dictated that all non-Europeans were required to carry ‘Certificates of Exemption’ which enabled them to work temporarily as assistants to local merchants. In any event, Jacob continued with his door to door trade as the policeman walked away in the opposite direction. At dusk he decided to head back home, with his case almost half empty and a reasonable day’s earnings in his pockets. He then realised with alarm that he had given the street map to the policeman. He was so tired he lay down on a street sheltered by a building and took a little nap, resting his head on the suitcase. People had assured him, ‘There are no murderers or robbers here.’

Close to midnight Jacob became aware of a man approaching. He jumped up and opened his case for the stranger to see the display of shirts, socks, hats, silks, towels and small items of haberdashery. He felt no fear when the man looked him up and down and intimated with words and gestures, ‘Hang on, I’ll get my friend, he might buy something as well.’ Jacob waited with a leather belt around his neck attached to the open suitcase ready for the two men to view upon their return. However, four men came back, one with a knife who deftly cut the belt from around Jacob’s neck and after the other three kicked and punched him, all ran off. Jacob called out for police but when he did find one, neither could understand each other. At 1am all the street lights went out and the moonless night smothered any possibility of Jacob navigating his way home. When he found suitable shelter in a doorway, he once again made his aching body as comfortable as he could. For the first time since he had departed his home country, Jacob had plenty of time to reflect on how immensely his and Eva’s lives had changed in only two months…

…This was just the beginning of Jacob’s and Eva’s journey into the 20th Century….read the rest of this short story here in Dragons, Deserts and Dreams.

Buy  DRAGONS, DESERTS and DREAMS

2nd edition (2020) Now available in Kindle e book and paperback

Here at AMAZON

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Read more about Anne Frandi-Coory’s paternal Lebanese grandparents in

Whatever Happened To Ishtar? – A Passionate Quest To Find Answers For Generations of Defeated Mothers

LINK HERE