Eye the world with wonder.
Envy beautiful things.
View others take that leap of faith
while you watch from the side-linings.
NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 1: Instruction Manual
Pic copyright: alphaspirit
Eye the world with wonder.
Envy beautiful things.
View others take that leap of faith
while you watch from the side-linings.
NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 1: Instruction Manual
Pic copyright: alphaspirit
Come see with me, as the spring light fades,
a delicate pale dusk that hints at May,
a gentle hue that shimmers through
the retreating winter mists.
Come hear with me, as the birds make nests,
a caw and cackle from beaks unseen,
above me the drone of planes in flight,
beside me the sounds of nature stirring.
Come smell with me, as mowers emerge
from musty mould of damp old sheds,
to give a lawn its first shear of the year,
the encouraging scent of freshly chopped grass.
Come feel with me, the patio touch
of a lilac cushion, smooth bumps of rattan,
a still cool breeze upon the skin,
as fingers graze the pot-plant petals.
Come taste with me, this springtime zest,
let ice-chilled soda sparkle your throat,
the tang of past no longer bitter,
now savour feeling alive.
Remember what it’s like to sew your heart:
when you feel alone, yet yearn for love.
Stress will charge your fears, your pulse,
you forget to attach to what’s above.
A sewn-up heart has self-righteous thoughts
of revenge and shame and guilt,
the threads of life tie you up in knots,
you forget the power of your patchwork quilt.
Remember what it’s like to open your heart,
when you’re a blanket of multi colour,
resplendent in your everyday weeds,
ready to clothe and soothe the other.
Be forever open to heal your hurts,
undo that stitch, untie that knot,
challenge the feel of being hemmed in.
Don’t let life be a chance forgot.
Tit for tat, we shout
insult here, grievance there.
Why stay together
when we’re both stressed out.
Blame is the name of the game
you think I’m playing.
I’m tired of you pointing out
my faults.
In my wounded heart
I’m better off alone.
Heat today, hottest April record,
left garden scorching, plants wilting:
pot plant bowed head, thirst making humble.
Heat relentless, leaving sweat on brows,
blisters on hastily sandalled feet.
Sun’s heat, all invading:
down necks, armpits pools of
awkward, seeping sweat,
other flesh clammy to touch.
Sunshine welcome, lifting mood.
Heat dense, suffocating, sucking:
creating craving for whirl of air.
Weeds grow, inch by hourly inch,
loving power, stealth through hedgerow.
Spring here:
“hurrah”
She rose in the morning
as she always did
entering the caravan
to wake them all up.
Except the caravan
was wrong
a different id
another joke, get over it.