19 February 2015

Ode to Mojo

My get up and go
Got up and went
It’s taken my Mojo
To live in a tent

Sewing machine sits forgotten
Painfully sad
Within layers of dust
So deeply bad

Gelli, paper and paint
Leave behind messy fingers
Fun in the making
Distant memory lingers

Gorgeous new colours
Sadly neglected
We’ve moved in with you
And now feel rejected

Work table is groaning
Under the weight
But it’s not pieces of art
Which give it this state

Ideas are a plenty
Not short on a thought
By the time think has thunk
It turns into nought

Mojo’s been tempted
With chocolate and tea
Leave the cold tent
Come home, be with me

Please come for a visit
Just for one day
I’m sure you will like it
Be willing to stay

There’s plenty here
To stir ideas of creation
Wave goodbye to the tent
Enough of vacation.

Beverley Folkard
February 2015


Very occasionally I write poetry, verse, rhyme, just words... and as I seem to be lacking in spirit in other directions, I thought I'd compose.  Its a personal matter which is taking time to find a way forward, but seems to be tripping me up.
However, I am trying my best to keep up with things, ideas are not a problem, designed at least 3 magnificent pieces in my head!  And I've sent in an application form... just hoping its all correct, having recently discovered following proof reading, said yes and it has a spelling error in it, oh well, others make far worse errors.