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
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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.
