dark thoughts on a saturday
thinking of our father
chop wood, paint fence,
dig a pool for water
a gaggle of ducks
fly east across my window
good luck in attending
to seagoing vessels
i called a psychic, late this morning
i was brooding on fears
about my appearance
why do people hate me
he told me its the money,
you have a financial future
and thats all he could promise.
thinking of our father
chop wood, paint fence,
dig a pool for water
a gaggle of ducks
fly east across my window
good luck in attending
to seagoing vessels
i called a psychic, late this morning
i was brooding on fears
about my appearance
why do people hate me
he told me its the money,
you have a financial future
and thats all he could promise.
i am on a higher plain to day in terms of my thoughts, and have been dreaming up a story based on the funship moored up near mostyn in wales. i clearly remember it steaming off, up river several years ago. i was watching from the banks of thusaston. its like some mysterious spectre has appeared in my dream world telling me of an impossible feat of great difficulty!
ReplyDeleteif you click on the title of the poem, the link will take you to the webpage on the history of the funship!
ReplyDelete