Her laughter is infectious,
His wit is slightly snide,
The two of them together are
comedy personified.
They fight like cats and dogs
But God help any schmoe
who might hurt his big sister
or pick on her li’l bro.
They are family, they are siblings
and they’re a joy to have around.
They’re my children and I love them.
They make me laugh out loud
with their quirky sense of humour
(Don’t know where they got that from)
I’m just happy that they love me
and proud to be their Mum.
#208
I’m dreaming awake, with my eyes wide open
the world rolls by and nobody notices
dreams behind my eyes
oh, the dreams behind my eyes.
My mind’s eye is a beautiful place
where I can go when I don’t want to race
with the rats or the mice
and their constant advice
about who I am
about who I am.
I’m walking away, without moving
and no one suspects that I might be choosing
a path they’ve never seen
Oh, a path they’ve never seen
I’m floating away from the storms outside
my heart finds the peace of a hurricane’s eye
in just being still
in still being still.
#207
If you think this reads like a song, you’re right. I’ve already put down the working tracks in Bill’s studio and will be working on this song in the future. Who knows, maybe it’ll make it to the CD. 😉
I dream in bits and snippets.
Like a chanel surfer,
searching for something new
yet familiar.
Like a film festival of captionless
foreign movie trailers.
My attention deficit manifests
as a long dark hole
in the middle of my consciousness
where ideas, fixations, and fears go
to die, then return to haunt my subconscious.
I know they were there last night.
I know my dreams paraded by like
some circus freak show.
But I can’t recall a single image.
Perhaps my subconscious is just trying
to protect me from insanity.
I can respect that.
Time to rejoin the real world and
pray it makes more sense
than the nightly bits and snippets.
#206
The world is insane
with wee pockets of reason
trying to stay free.
Like scientists who
must observe objectively
to reach conclusions
about how insane
the world is and how futile
it is to change it
because a nudge here
starts the dominos of change
to fall over there
and over there seems
to be the place where we see
the most need for change,
not realizing
there connects to here by one
falling domino.
#205
Somewhere in my grey matter a poem is lurking,
skulking around a corner of my mind, shirking
its duty to spring magically to my lips,
to dance to the beat of my fingertips
on my tablet. Creativity shouldn’t feel like working.
#204
Roses are red
Violets are blue.
But roses are white
and yellow too
and violets are more
of a purple-ish hue
which inaccuracy only
goes to prove
that a poet’s no botanist
and if they must choose
twixt rhyming a word
and telling the truth
the rhyme wins.
#203
There is no certainty to life
but uncertainty,
no accepted wisdom
not subject to revision,
no hard and fast rules
that will not soften and loosen
under the perpetual motion of time.
To be flexible;
to see through, around, and behind
the walls of convention is to
brush lightly against the universe.
It is to experience the full depth
of the breathtaking question
“What if?”
#302
Garden dreams start early.
Barely out of January,
I imagine the earthy tang of potting soil,
the cool sweetness of spring rain on my tongue,
the weathered roughness of terra cotta pots
beneath my fingers.
In my dreams, tangles of clambering peas and beans
twine themselves Heaven-ward,
waving their white and red flowers to flag
down wayward bees.
In my mind’s eye tomatoes hang heavy,
onions and garlic tilt their lances at the sky,
and the greens march crisply, row on successive row,
out of the garden and into my salad bowl.
Then into my dreams floats the scented glory
of roses, the rioting rainbow of hardy perennials,
the colours of laughter and abundance and joy.
Do not wake me from this reverie too soon,
at least not until the seed catalogues begin to sprout
in frigid mail boxes.
Garden dreams start early.
#201
I tried counting up sheep
as o’er the fence rails they leap
but, alas, my downfall
is my flock is too small
and runs out before I fall asleep.
#200
Two steps forward and keep on the track,
resisting the surging
of the current that’s urging
you to take at least one step back.
# 199
Linda Studley 