Hedgehog

I once moved country
With a sleeping bag
A dictionary
Two dresses
A blue t-shirt
One pair of jeans
And a change of underwear
To live in a nine foot
Square box with no
Toilet or fridge
I cooked ravioli
In the tin over
A five euro
Electric kettle
And washed both
Food and clothing
In the bidet
Entertaining friends
One at a time
As I acquired
A single mug
With no handle
Singing songs
With strangers
Who were also
Far from home
So do not dare
To presume
That I will permit
Myself to acknowledge
The inconvenience
Of personal growth
There are other things
Upon this Earth
That chafe

The land of green ginger

Magic was once my favourite word
That long ago time, when dreams flew about.
I loved every tune my ear ever heard
And voices sang all around, inside and out.

With only a breath of a wish I could climb
To peak on each mountain and slide down the frost
I needed no answers, no reason to rhyme
But I’m starting to fear that this time I have lost.

The lonely existence I now seek to fill
With fragments of stories, my paperback friends,
Seems further away from what little I still
Remember from those tangled, twisted loose ends.

I wonder and wander around and about
And puzzle at what things have stolen away
The dreams and ideas that did glitter and shout
Throughout every night and during every day.