I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

23 April 2010


(Topic suggested by Eddie at WordsFlow Writers today)

I’m totally stumped for something to say.
He asked for nonsense, he wanted to play.
But I am a serious kind of a girl.
What is this nonsense, could I give it a whirl?
It mustn’t be real and it mustn’t make sense.
It mustn’t add up but sit on the fence.
It mustn’t make sense, it mustn’t be real.
It mustn’t be thought but I suppose you could feel.
Can you feel it tickle, can you feel it nudge?
Is it light and airy or heavy old sludge?
Nonsense, not one sense, it’s all in my mind.
Can I get to it from here? Will it leave me behind?
I’m wary of nonsense, it might just mean mad.
And mad isn’t senseless but it’s very, very bad.
Senseless is silly, senseless is dumb.
Maybe nonsense could even be fun.

NaPoWriMo Day 23

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