dripping tap

like a dripping tap
fatigue fills me
slowly slowly
displacing
sunshine
leaving
dark

writing myself a bedtime story

just one more, my fingers beg
as they caress the keys
my mind has flown away again
so digits have control

no birds to fly with in the night
my mind is swooping with bats
and bathing in pools of moonlight
as curious glowing eyes of sheep
reflect the light like freakish
floating marbles hovering near grass
and gentle stars glow from
many light years away, all cold and distant
and if I stare for long enough
I may catch one’s demise from stardom

back on the keyboard the pads of fingers
dance a jig that magically results in words
and momentarily my mind returns to wonder
how it is that I can link to my fingers in this way
from thought to typed word on the screen
without a moment spent considering the position
of the qwertyuiop
and barely a moment spent in thought
these thoughts do not so much as register
or get a pondering before they show themselves
on screen

my mind is gone again
this time swooping low over the hillsides
enjoying itself by gathering speed uphill
and flinging itself skywards with momentum
and tumbling head over heels
though as it is merely a mind without body
it surely has no head or heels to tumble over

mind stuck on that difficult concept
the fingers once again take over
as they consider the smoothness of the keys
and the warmth of the laptop
quietly humming to itself
patiently humouring the poetic digits
‘quite insane of course’ it mutters
‘but mostly harmless so we’ll let them carry on’

and the headless heelless mind is soaring higher
trying to touch the moon
and catch a trail of stardust
drifting softly cross the dark
and watching as the dots of light
marking houses in the lanes and valleys
slowly turn off one by one
as people fall asleep
and other minds come join it there
as the dreaming starts
while bodies sleep all sound in beds
the minds take flight with joy
and folk who never speak in life
skydance their minds above the treetops

the fingers getting weary now
contemplate the dreamers
and wonder if they ought to join
so slowly, very slowly they draw the nonsense to an end
and gradually a silence falls
without the tap of tips on keys
without the sound of thumb on space
and all there is is gentle breaths
as blue girl softly slips to sleep
her worries drifted far away

just the slight niggle of a thought as she goes
‘I’ve really gone and done it this time, no doubt I’m loopy now’

goodnight, sleep tight x

night leaves

turning leaves smoulder in the night
despite dark masking them from view
the blackness seems to stifle life
and smother all the light and good
but still the smoky mists drift up
from changing burning foliage
the embers simmer darkly there
until the lick of morning’s tongue
creeps over the horizon bare
and trees ignite, inflame the sky
cimmerian gloom defeated

with grateful thanks to m lewis redford for the inspiration – the first line, in italics, is all his