Reformed

Vent and as

you drown me

in your anger

disillusionment

and sorrows

I’ll erupt

in bubbles

float

to mountains

skylines

and beyond

or sink

beneath

the waves

in oceans’ hidden

depths to dwell

awhile

where cacophony

is only

whale song

to plug

my oozing ears

and when

outer limits reached

blot

all excess

I’ll be reabsorbed

and fall again

liquidity

reformed

Soon Mellow

Soon rest mid cups of yellow

gloss reflected on pale skin

emergent freckles smile return

while bees drone by with grin

a hazy sort of lazy,

side-ordered with content,

soon rest with me in meadows

where all summer days are spent.

Soon tickle chins with charming

belles, these buttercups,

simple yet disarming

lemon drops that raise me up

soon, so soon, the green grass,

with wild flowers blooming there,

will tremble friendly mellow cups

sun-dappled in breezed air.

Mind Strokes

stroked invisibilty, masseuse of mindless faltering assuage, permawarmth in comfort, tenuous the link between still present turn of page, a momentary lapse will see adrift the day and cosy fluff in brain begets the hour ponderous, each motion, movement slowing, eyes succumbing, stills the time, and all the while life beats and strains of happy chatter lick ice cream and giggle softly up above while this mother smiles inside and does allow a body’s need to slip away, a corner turning, urging come and rest the day is done, the beat goes on, slow tempoed now, the rat-tat-tat to rhythmic breathing, holding on determination, letting go, mere slip the cord, peruse the otherworld amid goodnight, stroked key.

For Science – ll

Earth date:- 6th March 2015

Last night was not one of Spain’s finest moments although I venture to suggest it will not be recorded in the annals of history by any of its contemporaries and only noted here. Their loss. In attesting to these findings I have duly taken note that the bouquet of the Spanish wine consumed was most pleasant, the taste on the palate equally so and that the requisite two glasses were consumed with ease.

This initial experiment proved to have positive beginnings when I succeeded in being asleep shortly after ten o’clock. Men In Black (version something) failed to hold my interest although I was impressed at Emma Thompson’s vocal impersonation of a Venusian in heat – at least, I think that’s what it was.

Unfortunately, for the purposes of the previously outlined experiment, it also has to be noted that I was awake again just after twelve, paid heed to the time, fucked a little under my breath and promptly fell asleep again. This was of short duration when I was awakened yet again just after one a.m. by my son ringing the house phone to request admission to the lab as he had forgotten his keys.  An unusual occurrence. Not the keys. The fact that the door was locked. It has become the habit over the years for last one in to lock up. This has resulted in the front door sometimes being left open all night. But not last night. I will not deduct marks from Spain for that particular awakening as it was not the fault of the country that my son is a plank.

As I write it is now coming up on two a.m. My go to drink at the moment is water and I will now attempt to catch the sandman’s coat tails before he pisses off entirely for the night….. to be continued.

Bloody hell! * 5.30a.m.

Geezabrek! * just after 6

Giving in – time up, anyway.

Spain will now unite with Italy in the lasagne stakes, a necessary addition to the dish, although one that always breaks my heart a little when adding to the sauce.

Apparently, cherry and damson are not conducive to uninterrupted sleep.

Earth date:- 26th March 2015

My findings are proving inconclusive and elusive. (Bugger! Rhymes!)

It should be apparent to anyone with an eye for detail that monitoring the experiment now entitled ‘Fucksakesletmesleep!’ has not been high on my agenda. I have failed to keep notes and have even failed to drink the requisite number of glasses per evening to substantiate any claims that might possibly have been made were I a more diligent scientist, advocate of homework or indeed drinker. Stephen-my-man-Hawkings must be birling at the lack of adherence to task and would, I’m sure, give me a rollicking for such neglect. (I’ve heard he likes a good swally. But that might just be a rumour. Started by me.)

Being someone who never gives up without a fight I have decided, this evening, to try again. I’m only doing this in the interests of my marriage and the now too often vacant space that lies to my left. (Well, when I’ve not sprawled there in my apparently neverending quest for more space, a better bit of bed and someone to fling a leg over.) The shadows evidenced on my husband’s face and the haggard look on mine as I cover the smudges of a morning are testament to the fact that sleep is ever elusive and fucksakeswhatsgoingongoodgriefgodalmightycharliebrownI’mdyinghere is now my favourite catch phrase – shortened, of course, to the aforementioned experiment title.

I am now of the opinion that my vitamin D levels are back in the toilet pan again and only a massive dose of unadulterated sunshine will see me right.

In exactly one week’s time I will be on holiday for two weeks and there had better be a sun shining high in my back garden. I have painting plans of the garden furniture variety and a couple of sun loungers calling my name. Pick me, pick me, I hear them cry from the garden shed. (Need to paint that fecker too.)

At precisely 2.30 p.m. – Earth time – I shall don my painter’s apron atop my scientist’s coat, open a bottle of red, splash some paint hither and to and test for road worthiness one of the two petulant loungers. And there had better be some fucking sunshine around, sunshine. Or there sure as hell will be plenty of wine.

I will bloody sleep again. ‘As god is my witness.’ ‘But I’ll think about that tomorrow.’

Right now, I’ve opened a Spanish number again. Got to give science and countries another chance, I think. So does Stephen. I’ve heard. Slainte, mark ll!

 

 

 

Imagine A Hug

Imagine, if you will, for a moment,

Soft feathers alight on your heart,

Like a balm to skin when it’s broken,

Soothing, by touch, to impart.

 

Imagine their strokes, almost fleeting,

Whispers of breeze blown within,

Tendering comfort and easing

Scalded and blistered of skin.

 

Imagine a cloak made of feathers,

Down of the fluffiest fleece,

Enfolding and holding together,

Protecting and giving you peace.

 

Imagine a hug made from heaven,

Lined by all angel wings,

Inviting, with arms always open,

Embracing relief that it brings.

I’ll be on the ferry by now, off to Ireland for a week or so for a family holiday. I’ve been rushing around like a maddy getting bits and pieces organised so my reading has been scant at best. This is the only post I have scheduled and I’m going to have a break away from all things techy – well apart from my kindle and maybe my phone! Hugs to all you lovely people and see you on my return, God willing.x

Astounded

The response to my last post has left me just as my title states – astounded. I have never had so many comments or likes on any one single post. And every comment was so positive.

I have had maybe half a dozen professional massages in my life and, each time, I have been wiped out by them –slept for hours afterwards.

I did this again yesterday. After returning from work I slept. Fully clothed on top of my bed. Woke, changed, crawled under the covers and slept right through until 6a.m. More than 12 hours sleep!

Utterly wiped.

Perhaps there’s a connection between having every muscle of your body eased and having your mind eased. The effect was identical.

If I dreamed at all I can’t remember.

Hopefully, the cathartic effect of ‘coming out’ has left me renewed.

I’m usually fairly quick to answer comments but there have been so many it may take more time. I am on it and will answer every one.

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the responses from everyone.

I feel I have been massaged from every corner of the globe!

So much sleeping also means I’m way behind on my post reading. I will catch up there too. This blogging/writing could be a full-time job. I wish!

Many thanks again to all of you who read and/or commented. It truly feels like hands and minds across the world. And that is such a beautiful thing.

Musings

rest where ease

grants pardon,

in garden’s shady nook.

discover soul’s serenity

beside gently

gurgling brook.

imagine possibilities,

eyes closed to

mid-day sun.

recline

in loving arms,

two for everyone.

 

quiet meditation

on all that

life may hold.

musings,

introspection, of

stories to be told.

dreams to haunt reality

if chance should

come along.

music to believe in,

two voices,

but one song.