She likes to daydream. She does it all and every day. About how that tree in her neighbour’s garden is full of wise gnomes who can see the future. These gnomes tell her there’s no point snapping out of it. And that her life will always be better in dreams.
I wasn't sure if the picture was of a candle or a cake so if this seems completely irrelevant, then you know why!
ReplyDeleteIs a news report,
television framed,
just dipping your wick
into the pot
of molten anguish?
Does the dumping of bodies
mess up our living rooms?
Is humanity reshaped
by hunger, despair
by heaps of dust
or left to settle
haplessly,
abandoned,
hopeless?
Do politicians
light candles
at home?
Er, it's actually my christmas hat from Santa!! But worth it for your poem.
ReplyDeleteOh, I can see it now! Hope you're not offended. I'm sure that it looks beautiful on you. Much better than a cake or a candle might. Am I digging myself into a deeper hole here?!
ReplyDeleteHah, not offended at all. I often wear cakes on my head - it helps when I get hungry.
ReplyDeleteI swear I wrote this before I read the cake comments :)
ReplyDeleteMama was so proud. Little Betty had won the fair's cake decorating contest for the third straight time. And Mama knew why. It was all because of their secret girl time, away from the demands of the house, when they'd lay on their backs to trace shapes in the clouds.