The Last Refuge

GOOSEBERRY GARDEN

http://gooseberrygoespoetic.blogspot.com

asks us to consider our own lives

THE LAST REFUGE

I always thought interesting thoughts.

I used to roll them around the tongue of my brain

And find them delicious.

It mattered not that there was every possibility

That my thoughts were

Mundane,

Ordinary,

Uninformed

And really rather

Crass;

I loved them.

But I under-rated them.

They were far less important than

The Job,

The Marriage,

The Children,

The Questions....

Was I Attractive

Or was I Hideous?

They were even less important

Than the next new Lipstick!

But now,

Now that I am old

And everything else is stepping-away from me,

Inexorably,

I have fallen in love with my thoughts all over again.

I roll them round the tongue of my brain

And they are delicious.

*

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NOT WAVING BUT DROWNING

Every day I see you on the train;

Every day I fall in love again.

Every day I smile and say 'Hallo';

Every day I hate to see you go.

Sometimes I try a small, impersonal grin,

Hoping for some rapport to begin!

Sometimes you simply turn your head away

Just when I've thought of something I could say!

Sometimes you're gazing at the passing scene;

I 'disappear' as though I'd never been!

Sometimes I try waving casually;

A lifting of the hand to you from me.

*

But I'm not waving, though I raise my hand.

And I'm not smiling, can't you understand?

I'm drowning, drowning, drowning in your eyes!

And every day a little of me dies!

*