Passing Days

Feelings are fickle. Moods and emotions are high-maintenance. I’ve started this year with a new resolution. To focus on growing. Learning and creating. So now when my pain points are pressed (salt in all my wounds), which happens often, I am acknowledging it, respecting the life within, and letting it go. 
We have only so many days in our lives. Each passing day is one less to live. But for today, we are alive, we are breathing, we are aware. Peace be to you. 

My One True Crush

My one true crush is back in town

My hair is not done, my roots on display

My weight has increased, my wrinkles have grown

I think of his eyes, the depth of his blue

And see the echo in his child who is new

I cross the street, I’d rather be swayed

To not say hello, to not stop and greet

I cannot be trusted, my arms won’t behave

To not wrap around him, to hug and embrace

I’ll leave the past, dead as it is

And ignore the sound roaring –

Those pounding heart beats

Cold Embrace

Crisp white waves
And turquoise seas
Life force pulling
Pulling me

I hear the crash
I feel the cold
I feel the sand
Beneath my toes

I feel alive
I feel at one
I feel the hope
Within my soul

I see the earth
I feel the sun
I glimpse the moon
Joining the fun

And marvel at
The world around
The world above
The world below

Allow the waves
To have their way
Pulling me further
Further in

As I submerge
And as I breathe
I submit myself
To a cold embrace

Enchanted Worlds

The best book I ever read was the Enchanted Wood by Enid Blyton. She spoilt reading for me because no other book could live up to Silky and Moon-Face and the unfortunately named Jo, Bessie and Fannie not forgetting cousin Dick.

I lived in the home of Moon-Face, could hear the clanging of Saucepan-Man, and could feel the soft, shining hair of Silky.

And I loved the worlds at the top of the tree. How they never stood still. Sometimes magical, sometimes scary, sometimes exciting, sometime peaceful, always moving, never standing still.

I think of the changing worlds of our life. The seasons that pass. And sometimes they are scary. And frightening. And exciting. And enchanted. 

And hopefully, maybe, everything will be okay.

Cold Coffee

He haunts me in my dreams. Visions of skin and eyes and smiles and touch. Moments of bliss. Flesh. The flesh so strong. Overruling any sane thought straining to be heard. He is close to me. When I close my eyes, and my dreams roam unrestrained. We are together and I love him and he loves me. And then I wake.

The coffee is cold.


I was so hot this afternoon, went and relaxed on my bed, and was in that space of being not awake, and not asleep. I’ve started an online course so have been working on that, and feeling somewhat like a student. In my dream-like state a string of numbers popped into my head. 9301589 and yes, followed by a V. Really? It’s now 2017, 1993 is so far away. Could it be that? And again the numbers echoed. 9301589v. I had to confirm for myself. 

I felt like a student this morning, so my subconscious handily recalled my student number for me. Helpful as!

Seems there are some things we may never forget.