It seems they enjoyed them…
the sweet peas which actually,
I didn’t buy for them.
I never do you see
for selfishly, I thought I would
enjoy them myself.
Shocked I was…. stunned
with jaw dropped, seeing that they
had actually stripped me bare
of all I had hope for…. overnight.
Let there be no mistaking why
this village is called SNAILWELL!!!
The little centre spins,
sometimes whirling around
like a drunken duck.
Spirals turn inwards
drilling into depths
in order to find the
healing of peaceful waters.
The word ‘Encourage’ has always meant to me to imbue with curage/courage…. it’s apparently a word which goes back to the 15th century…. we need it today more than ever, I would say. It implies instilling life; that is precisely how I experience it. Here is a little offering:
Encouragement is Life.
Give me break when
I tell you how I am!
I don’t need your lambasting
or your controlling words……
You want me to change?
Then put away that stick
and offer the carrot to
help me see in the dark.
When you encourage me
with your laughter and bright
smile, I come alive and want to LIVE.
Encouragement IS Life…..
and surely you should know,
a plant would never grow
if the sun scowled upon it!
I fly
swollen with tears,
like a helium latex balloon,
stretched and filled with air….
I had a large green one, once
when I was seven.
They were new…. nothing
like it had ever been seen in
our little, sober village
where neighbours gossiped
and stabbed each other in
the back with words.
I just wanted the helium balloon
to carry me away…..
way up, way out, way beyond….
where I didn’t have to be
squeezed in my heart, in my soul.
Now, I realise my balloon did come.
Music carried me away…
way up, way out, way beyond anything
I ever knew there in the little village
with their little tiny thoughts and heavy lives.
As swollen rivers burst their banks
so too do swollen, red-rubbed eyes ….
then water flows and the pressure drops.
Helium balloons do land, eventually.
Moist Eyes
Eyes moist,
no reason for tears to sit, sometimes leaking
down a face which doesn’t realise they are there,
let alone know why.
Very strange and mysterious is the interior life
which knows incalcuable depths,
yet keeps those same vaults hidden and locked away
from world ….. and smiling, survivor self.
BubblingWordClouds 