The Day The fumbled glasses are dropped onto my face. Sweaty feet stick to the floor The sharp needles of a power shower prick my awaking body Slowly #life drifts back into my body What to wear? Choices to decide; Home or away? Leather shoes on a timber floor.... a strong sound Breakfast.. Not today thank you Gotta go, gotta go Rush to say goodbye - pure habit Empty rooms, locked doors The sound of memories are all that is left

My Dad (get well soon!!) His strong heart could be felt through his thick farmers cotton shirt as I sat on his lap After eight and a half decades, the voom has gone from the once proud heart. The beat is slower, the time approaches The reaper awaits on the wings

The Dream Had A Return Ticket #Household In the depths of my mind Is a dream maker As I lay in my bed Cursing, twisting, wishing The Dream Maker comes alive The dream maker is annoyed with me Why? I don't know The dream maker is here and the presence is felt My body is weary; fatigued by the visiting dream maker My mind is delicate; tenderised by the blows of the dream maker Weary body, delicate mind Aching bones Tossed sheets, pummelled pillows, can't get comfortable The square bright red digits hunt the day break closer A theme tune cracks the grey mind mist An arm outstretched fumbles to crush the intruder Calm returns Eyes slowly adjust The mind reminds The day begins And so the dream maker takes a break Soon to return

As Time Goes By First comes one, then two followed by three o'clock. And the hours keep coming and going, every hour, every day. At 120, the hour of prayer At 150, the hour of tea At 180, the hour of stretch, At 210, the hour of coca, At 000 the hour of the witch, And so the day begins again. Time, time, time, can we stop thee I fear not.

The Night Quietly the peaceful night turns into a dark haze The limp blind stays quiet The room ghosts are still Spirits are silent The hot body Sweats on the crumpled bed sheets Droplets form on the face Desperate for sleep Twist and turn Night dreams. Night terrors Drag sleep from weary eyes Sliver of moonbeam Add a surreal reality To a woken, fatigued body Facing the grey whiteness of the ceiling Reflections are vivid Toes curling in the twisted sheets Wishing for a different time. The water in the mind crashes against the skull Pain, tiredness, dreary Sun starts to streak through the window Damp feet on the floor Feels for glasses Faces the day