The various observations mutterings and muse of a woman thats me.
We desire it and chase it, we hunt it down.
The expectation of what it will bring, swirls around and around.
But if we could grab it and jar it to keep, hoping for a million angels on which we would sleep.
Soon we'd be wanting anything more, for all you had captured was dirt from the floor.
As stardust and good luck, magical wishes, all happen in dreams.
Where any things possible, or so it seems.
But a jar of stardust, is only the dirt from the floor. Nothing less and not any more.
It was my birthday the other day, Jay surprised and whisked me away.
He prepared me a breafast, smoked salmon and scrambled egg. Poured me a bucks fizz and delivered it in bed.
He drove me to Devon, unbeknown to me; it was the place my parents would be.
A last chance of being their child once more, of eating cake and mum saying "don't drop it on the floor"
Of Dad poking fun at the clothes that I wear. Watching my tongue, making sure I didn't swear.
We had us a giggle and I'm happy it was done, as nothing makes you feel younger than being ticked off by your Mum.
Tis me, I said. A scetchy bird, colourful, daring, confident and a tad mad.
This is also me, kind and considerate, sensitive and occasionally sad.
Often I am strong, but then I am weak. I try mostly to be good, but I can over speak.
Sometimes I behave, and dress exactly as people expect.
Conforming pleasantly, smiling and talking when bid so to do.
Then once in a while I'll let down my hair, I giggle and gaggle and haven't a care. I talk far to much and do not hold back. This is me a scetchy bird who enjoys to surprise, to shock and fantasise. Unique, a one off a contradiction, that's me. "How do you do" do you care for tea?
Can she hold on to this pure abandoned state, when other people's views try to mold and shape her.
Once awake can she be her truest self.
To acheive the uninhibited unselfconciousness of sleep, she first must trust herself, value her own judgement.
Being that carefree vibrant person that she is, looking, dressing and living the way she feels is her; despite others expectations.
As she does in sleep.
She may be labelled... Eccentric, mad, odd and different; these are the words she would have to bear.
Words can be presented as beauty and unique, quirky, fun and individual; they feel more comfortable, easier to wear.
She can wake and relish in the freedom of now.
As should we all.
Come with me in a dancing floating hypnotic dream, come where your blood tingles through your veins; your eyes sparkle and shine
and your heart twinkles with anticipation of what's to come.
You are never to old to feel the words or anticipate the next moment, reach out your hand , you are almost there..........
Hey, long time since I posted . I have this simple scrumptious idea and I want to share it.
Take a punnet of the best fruit! Must be really good no soft or squelchy bits. (Strawberries Rasberries and blackberries have been tested). Mash or blitz until pulp is smooth,(you can strain if you dont like the texture with bits in) freeze in ice cube trays . How to use them ; l drop one into sparkling wine or add to Champagne . Jazz up some white Rum to get fresh fruity booze; even when fruits are out of season. Dah dah daaaaaa! Enjoy.
