In Darkness

It’s been said that my sleep is “dark” because my eyes are shut, and of course that is a great point. But then humour is often a pill that cures all…

…There’s more to it though.

Darkness isn’t a lack of light, it’s a space void of life, air, hope and dreams. You can exist there, but it’s no way to live.

I dread sleep because I enter this void; moreover though, I dread waking and still being stuck within it. Escape is possible, so they tell me. Yet I simply don’t see how. There’s no map to the maze and the fact remains that, well it remains factual.

So in darkness we sit and idly chat…


There is something magical about words,

Conjuring up thoughts and images,

What you think may not be shared by another,

Or be shared by all,


Perhaps one solitary word can help change the World,




I don’t know every word,

Nor do I use every one I know,

But like others I have my favourites,

Today, it is pootle,

And yes,


I have pootled about.



I had cross words with someone who nearly ran me over,

They were on their phone whilst reversing their car,

But she decided that no apology would be forthcoming,

Rather she tried to berate my dog,

Telling me not to let her foul the pavement,

Strange how when challenged,

Words turn to insults,

to threats,

rather than to apology,

After all,

my dog just wanted to go for her daily pootle too.



But words hurt,


Pointy words,


Cut and bleed you,

I much prefer what I call curvy words,

That embrace,


And protect you.


Maybe I shouldn’t take things to heart,

But then that’s why I am me,

I have a big heart,

And a low pain threshold…



Perhaps I’d better just pootle in silence.