Things Poetic

 Smile Wake up, unkempt, poorly slept interrupted head, pounding heart unsure, unclear why, confusion meets the scattered sunlight, blurred eyesight, scintillating  false colours, waiting the walls with rainbows standing, staring at the curved mirror unrecognisable features, old haggard puffy bloodshot showered and brushed mirror again, face cracking into a poor smile todays mask,  tomorrows puffy, haggard visage returns

 Sunflowers Face changing, always seeking the heat turning and following crowds following each other seagulls on the beach, watching  all watching seeing everything saying nothing being beautiful

 Stillness The silence of the late night, or early morning, helps to focus your mind away from things that are hard, to things that might help to change inside or  outside No crazy thoughts, wheeling about boundcing off neurone and vessels, Calm and quietness

 Love Love  never can it be too much unless the recipient  isn't receptive  or honest in theirs then it be a reminder of what they aren't and are and destroys both Always, can never be unless you're Alan Rickman Then it always is

 Rain rain rain whispering, it softly drifts through the air, softly coating leaves on trees, blades of grass slowly bending as the drops coalesce  falls with a soft splash, barely heard Wind drifting the mist across the fields in the distance air slowly cleaning itself refreshed for the new day

Life and living                                                                                           “To be alive at all is to have scars.”                                                                              John Steinbeck,  The Winter of Our Discontent