Imagine, if you will…
An icy desert, a thought wasteland.
All around, snow and more snow.
Endless potential and certain death.
Not a penguin for miles.
No one to ‘Arctic-ulate’ the pain you feel.
Obstacles are here
Like polar bears and frostbite –
Best not to think too hard.
Distractions are like warm fires –
Rather nice but they melt the ice
And leave you with nothing to stand on.
Creative blocks, on the other hand,
Like blocks of snow
Can save your life…
If used to build an igloo [o]
The breakaway island of Europe
The rogue nation that seeks to sail west towards the Americas
Whose inhabitants know not the sun, and barbeque defiantly in the rain
The land where, we’re and were are oft mixed up, as though the same
The Great Britain [o]
I’m not worried about the spiders.
It’s the spider-eating, shark-riding, snake-charming, kangaroo-fighting crocodiles…
…that keep me up at night [o]
Technically, it was…
A pair of misbehaving new socks…
A new pair of misbehaving socks…
A misbehaving pair of new socks…
A new misbehaving pair of socks…
Anyway, the socks sucked!
So I shall make a fresh attempt this evening
With fresh socks [o]
Not up to much today.
At least, that is the plan.
I’m still not exactly sure
Where you live.
So I can route my run
Down your street
And you can fling open the window
And scream –
“Run Forest, Run!!!” [o]
The grass is the same
On the other side of the world
The sun shines more warmly
Brown leathery leaves quiver
A gentle breeze stirs
A red ball whirls through the air
Palm trees in straight lines
Autumn, in Spring [o]
Shining my shoes
With a horse hair brush –
The best time of my life [o]
The cozy warmth of a fleece blanket
Tucked in bed, the hum of a fan
The silence of my thoughts in darkness
All around, the things I love
(And think I love)
And yet alone, all alone
And all at once,