Well here I am Saturday night/Sunday morning,tired but not,sleep a million miles away.I have banished the books to the corner where they sit muttering and mumbling amongst themselves,trying to concentrate on them at the moment is like trying to take a crash course in Quantum physics!Hush be quiet books I am trying to write,noisy things.
Anyway the muttering books are sulking of course,and the singing bed has lost its voice,for now anyway.
My mind is just drifting along thinking of nothing,yet everything,getting nowhere yet solving at the same time.Though what it is solving I have yet to work out.It has been that kind of week I think up and down good and bad,normal really I guess. Reading blogs where people are facing and have faced challenges that a lot of people would crumble beneath,people a lot stronger and a lot braver than I.
I am still very much a coward when it comes to certain things in life.
But we all have something I guess.
And I even wrote a poem,not brilliant,but at least I am writing again,even though I was supposed to be writing an essay not a poem.
If Only
A restless and wandering Child
A spirit that needs to be free
Like a Wolf that roams in the wild,
And yet still there`s a part of me,
That yearns for strong arms to hold me,
A shoulder where I would rest my head.
A look,that with love would enfold me
A sweet kiss that speaks words yet unsaid.
If only love could come without chains
Without the clipping and binding of wings.
If only love could be free and unrestrained
And yet still be all those other things.