Category: A New Poem Every Morning

Water Dreams

lindastudley2 Comments

Streams and streams of water dreams
trickle through my brain it seems
that last night I imbibed far too much tea.
Brooks that babble, waves that crash,
water canteens slosh and splash
and wake me in the night quite urgently.

But not before they inundate
my poor brain with unrelated
images of soggy situations.
And just before the geyser blows
my eyes pop open and I know
the bathroom is my ultimate destination.

Water dreams, oh, water dreams
in glorious variety team
and wreak nocturnal havoc ‘pon my pons
My rem in remnants, my id all irked
I wake with hypnagogic jerk
bathroom bound again, with a yawn.

Three times, four? I can’t recall
how many trips made down the hall,
how many times those dreams awakened me.
Bleary with sleep fragmentation
I swear in weary exasperation
next time I’ll go easy on the tea.

 

#220

Greenhouse Glow

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So there I was, just me and the mad dogs,
my English roots glinting in the mid day sun,
cleaning out the greenhouse.
Telling over old pots, faded seed packets, and leaky watering cans
and why do I have three of those little fork type hand tools
and only one trowel? Taking everything outside and scrubbing
off the neglect, resigning myself to consigning
the worst to the rubbish tip.

Yes there I was, the sun spinning around me
when you found me and shaking
your head said “look at your shoulders, they’re bright red”
and I looked although I knew you wouldn’t lie about
pain; current or impending
“Oh my, this is going to hurt” I thought.
I really ought to know better, and I put on
a shirt like closing the barn door and later that day,
aloe anointed, fiery red shoulders
banked to a dull glow, I sigh
“Oh well, at least I got the greenhouse cleaned out.”

#219

Noun-ectomy

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I have a friend who tells me
that her vocabulary
has undergone a radical noun-ectomy
which makes it rather hard for her
to give lucid instructions,
unless she uses gestures. I suspect that she

may well be inventing
a new, interactive language
where all the nouns are gradually replaced
by “thing”, the handy word
that means everything and nothing
I see exasperation on her face.

as the nouns all slip away
and everything’s a thing
conversation becomes a game of cold to hot
as you try to figure out
to which noun she is referring
you touch things to see if she nods or not…

“No, no, get the thing over there. You know, the thing, the little thing behind the big thing. Not that thing, the other thing…”

#214

Brain Crumbs

lindastudley3 Comments

When my mind goes wandering
and my thoughts begin to roam
I leave a trail of brain crumbs
to find my way back home.

But sometimes they get picked up
and carefully tucked away
by those who have no crumbs
of their own with which to play.

So if you see some brain crumbs
on some existential plane
let them lie, or I might not
find my way home again.

 

#213

The Number of Our Days

lindastudley2 Comments

If our days are numbered
by the times that our heart beats
it seems an awful shame that
so much is spent in sleep,

so much spent cleaning bathrooms,
or washing up the dishes,
too little spent in berry picking
rambles in the ditches.

so little time spent searching
for the rainbow’s end,
for beauty or for wonder,
or for time spent with a friend.

So if our days are numbered
by the times that our heart beats
please let me use each second left
to make it twice as sweet.

 

#211

We Dream

lindastudley2 Comments

Slugs dream of leaves.
Bats dream of bugs.
Bugs dream of sleeping
All snug in a rug.
Birds dream of worms.
Worms dream of loam.
Rabbits dream of carrots
and I dream of home

Foxes dream of mice
Mice dream of cheese.
Deer dream of nibbling
my apple trees.
Cats dream of fish.
Dogs dream of bones.
Horses dream of apples
and I dream of home.

Pigs dream of mud.
Cows dream of barns.
Frogs dream of flies
and kittens dream of yarn.
Fish dream of streams.
Bees dream of combs.
Bears dream of honey
but I dream of home.

Home with my honey
yes I dream of home.

#210