CEARULEAN BLUES

Two poems today, but first some thanks.
Thanks to the Secret Poets for last weekend's Retreat. Very enjoyable, stimulating and thought provoking. I had a great time and was spurred to create some interesting poems.
I took one of the four workshops we ran over the weekend and the theme was buried treasure. I came up with this.

House Clearance

The enormity of it all just stops you

dead in your tracks,

one long life lived

and here you are in the hallway

wondering where to start,

wishing it were simply a woollen jumper

with one loose thread you could unpick.

Of course, it’s not that easy

so you walk through the rooms,

upstairs then down,

make a cup of tea

sit at the kitchen table to drink it,

black, because the milk has gone off.

This next one arose out of another workshop Liz ran. The poem just emerged over a half hour writing period.

Cearulean Blues

I’m painting my life in blues,

pretending it was by accident,

that I can’t control the paintbrush,

but I can and this is how

I express myself today:

topaz shoes; navy socks;

duck egg suit and a shirt I can’t describe

save to tell you that it’s blue.

Am I sad? You ask.

Less than I was yesterday

and more than I will be tomorrow.

A friend sent me a link to an Anne Briggs song this morning. A truly beautiful way to start the day. I leave you with it.

Until next time.