Yellow

I hoped yellow things might save me –

bought tulips and freesias, tied a ribbon to my

bed frame. I plucked the hearts from daisies and tucked them

in my pillow slip, drew the curtains wide and waited for full moons

and sunshine. I lost contact with my knees first, and then my

hips. Didn’t know a body could fall silent. The doctor prescribed

dandelions – fields full, ticking with thrips and hover flies

and when I found one I stayed for days, but more parts of me

fell away –knuckles, wrists. Memories began to fade. Perhaps

it was too late. The X-rays suggested I was whole, but

disconnecting, and I knew I should’ve welcomed yellow back

before, because it was my first love, and I left it,

and it transpires that yellow is vital.

Poems

(& on a more lighthearted note…)

 

Poems can ruin your sleep

rattling round inside your head

throwing parties on your pillow

chattering underneath your bed…

 

When you’re trying to nod off

poems may decide it’s time

to send your brain off searching

for a Wow! word or a rhyme.

 

If in the dark you hear a frantic

banging at the door

don’t be surprised to find

a simile or metaphor.

 

So if you hope to sleep well

have less bother overnight

trap your poems down on paper

and lock them out of sight.

 

 

It’s World Poetry Day – hurrah for poems! Even though they may drive you crazy…