Poem

My niece has won another poetry competition.  She is a very talented young lady (one of those people that seem good at everything!).  My brother sent me a copy of the poem (very proud dad) and it is incredible and so insightful.  We bantered on WhatsApp that the only thing I write is a shopping list!  

Quick gym visit this morning, then home for shower and trip to hairdresser. I needed some groceries to called into Asda - not my supermarket of choice but lots of well priced items.  Might go back?  A relaxing hour before prepping dinner - I did a stuffed pork loin which was full of promise, but was very disappointing and I lost at scrabble!

The poem - on the theme of Dreams

dreams should be scrawled on the underside of tears // dreams should kiss the children goodnight when their ears are cold // dreams should be the raw palms of father’s applause // dreams should be that dusty guitar // dreams should be that look a boy steals at another boy that is short enough to pass unnoticed but long enough to last the entire day plus the walk home // dreams should be the space between a fish and the glass // dreams should be nail varnish in a paper cut // dreams should be the echo of an echo of your name that was never really there // dreams should set an ice lolly on fire // dreams should be the rotting lemon in the back of the fridge from a long forgotten pancake day // dreams should be the thorns in your throat after you planted it without thinking // dreams should be the soft, smooth curve of a dead pigeon’s chest // dreams should be as angry as the sound of the word Worcestershire // dreams should be orange or blackcurrant, dear? //  dreams should be a sticky carpet // dreams should be the old photographs sporting dusted dust // dreams should be a forehead stained with boxed black hair dye // dreams should be graffiti on the sun // dreams should be shorn hair in a halo around your feet //  dreams should be the liquid eyes in Hiroshima // dreams should be the cold silence of Uranium-235 // dreams should be a butterfly landing on a nose // dreams should be a sneeze so loud it wakes up grandad // dreams should be a goodbye that wasn’t good enough or bye enough // dreams should be giggled swear words in a quiet classroom // dreams should be the ee between dr- and -m // dreams should be a burned love letter // dreams should be a head that you never see the face of // dreams should be queued up in your subconscious, waiting to be forgotten.