Morning thoughts caught on bedside paper, with scribbled ink
Shows through tiny window a glimpse of how I think
Systematic, ordered? Or imagination loose and wild?
Creating mess of poetry, not always on the fly
Twisting threads of yarn to blend a shade or hue
Finished piece trimmed and dressed, on wordpress, for you
The finished poem is called, “the maid, the mistress, the mattress, the missus.”
Above is a close up of my scribbles, done first in the nearest felt-tipped pen I could scrabble for as I awoke. Then edited with bleary eyes and a black ballpoint sharpening my brain. And sculpting the form of the poem.
(In case you are wondering, the strange colourful scribbles burying the tablecloth and peeking out beneath the poem, is what remains of our brainstorming session on our new collaborative blog idea. Which looks set to kick into action this week.)
Anyhoo, although there is a lot of descriptive stuff going on in this poem about a man having his cake and eating it too, I want to make sure I am not giving you an impression of being some sort of tantalizing temptress, myself, in person… So here are my off-putting pictures so you can imagine me ugleeee as.
Hahaha… see you around.
(I will have to make up for this horror show with some beautiful work in future…)
Don’t get too serious! 😉