Thoughts

I am in a mountain of words, spiralling out of control

I feel like a dictionary’s sponge, ready to soak up all the words.

I am twisted around a tree root and my heart is sprouting promises.

I am in a frosty grey winter’s day, the spiky leaves of the Mahonia bush

brighten the garden with their trellis-shaped leaves of bright yellow.

I am in Paradise, surrounded by happy people, none complains of illness.

I can see my relatives and friends who died long ago. This place is

so beautiful. The animals that used to be dangerous are now friendly,

I feel peace, I’ve got no worries at all.

I am playing amongst the clouds. I am an angel above the clouds.

The sun blazes through and warms my soul. Then I am here again,

human and whole

I am curled up in a tiny ball inside a pretty tulip, where I stay warm

in the sun’s rays and sheltered by the leaves. The bloom shields my

pale skin from the cold breeze.

I am the hazel brown of my children’s eyes.

I am sitting in a tavern in 14th century France, writing a love letter

for my friend to the woman he claims he loves, but I know the truth.

I am in a cup of tea, so dark and gloomy, but suddenly a smile comes

to my face when the tea gets bright and creamy with milk

I am a character in a book, the title of the book I do not know

but all I know is that the writer made me the centre of the story.