if I said I didn’t love it, I’d be telling a lie
watching out for watercolour bears who would have tea
reading rhyming stories with little people who remind me to be free
Bombadil is blaring in my earphones, my elbow and my fingers start to itch
I long to draw pretty pictures of rockets and boxcars of fox’s ears that twitch.
My mind walks through forests over grass that is damp with dew
all the while my floral gumboots walk me over hills and back to you.
Here and there, listfully- blisslessly, I go over my day to day tasks
The teaching of teenagers, the cleaning of clothes and various other masks.
I wish I could sit and write for a while…
the very thought makes me smile
about the tale of the bunny, who loves to eat honey.
whose friends never thought that his jokes were at all funny
My mind walks through this landscape where I can hear a cuckoo
all the while my practical sandals walk me past the river and back to you.
Meanwhile people get groggy, the road damp and the traffic heavy
I remember, in the rain, that we need to pay the grown-up levy
Wouldn’t it be better, would it not be grand
if we lived in a pinterest house, on a mountain or somewhere in a cave
instead of being a boring job’s lazy, depressed and slightly crazy slave
My mind jogs me through this wasteland of money and plastic and people who sue
all the while I wish I could cross bridges
run through valleys (run myself hoarse)
Running pridelessly, as long as my little bare feet ran away from you.