Today, a day of infinite possibility and

spark out of sorrows, I dealt the deck,

held the time slot, when nuance might post

its bulletin and I might let in the subtleness

of mood, indulging in seconds, minutes and hours,

side stepping full stops, stumbling blocks,

tripping over secret cracks in the calendar,

sewn up with cotton wool calypso heads.


The book of behaviour fibrous, bound,

bursting its imprints in brain cells of aged

patterns. I dangled a ribbon of hope at your heel,

left soft letters colluding like buds hoping

for Spring, daisy chains linking flowered

seascapes inviting a myriad of change