Some days I think I understand what it must be like
to wake up from a coma,
groping for the past, staring into the mirror
only to see a stranger staring back.
Some days I think I understand what it must be like
to live in a foreign country,
everyone waving hands and talking gibberish
until I speak, and they stare at me, puzzled.
Some days I think I understand what it must be like
to be a sleepwalker,
restless pacer, blind seeker,
doomed to endlessly retrace a pointless journey.
Then your laughter rushes in to fill the gaps,
you smile in a language we both understand, and
the beating of your heart sings me to sleep.
#92
Linda Studley 
Love the last verse, Linda; every line says something special and each one has a beautiful lyrical quality. Lovely!
PS: Small point, but you’ve missed the word ‘be’ out of the first line.
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Thanks Tony. And thanks for mentioning the missing word. That was a good catch! It doesn’t seem to matter how carefully I proof, something eventually gets missed and I do appreciate it being brought to my attention.
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That’s ok! There’s a reader of the Daily Mail who checks every anagram I have printed to ensure it’s a true anagram – even though some of the pieces are several hundred letters long – and he writes to me if he thinks I’ve slipped up! (I always run them through a computerised anagram checking program before I submit them). He hasn’t caught me out yet but maybe one day he will! In the meantime, I’m flattered that he actually takes the trouble (although I do think he needs to get out more).
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You gave me quite a chuckle! I guess fans come in all shapes and sizes and obsessions!
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