This is the moment where I should embrace the wintery-powder snow to come.

Under-wraps.

We all delight to create snow angels.

So too do the most damaged pimped out hoes

The death of everything I know.

Yet,

I

don’t

know

if

I’ve

 ever

 known

Even one thing for certain.

Always,

I  thought

I blew according to the way the wind doth blow.

until I  walked right into the eye of the

C.louds

 I.ntelligance

A.ir

shouted them down-

No, I won’t go slow.

Voice  ricochets  seeking  a target

breathe exterminated-

The managers above cloud corporation hear my

costly,

cerise

commotion —

derogatory

delirious

temper tantrum.

speech

pressurised protests-

Attacks of panic.

I got what I was owed.

Hitch hiked a lift with a passing tornado.

Whirlwind dropped me off in a place with no directions to  the Republic of sense-at-ors of common.

I walked along the  the uneven, cobbled path —  another independent equality  free flowing  feminist ,

juggling with digits and exchanged words with third eye chakra chemists

Paper –

trees-

All alternate in form — it ends for the same means.

Or is that me unravelling myself from being stitched up — picking away at the seams?

I didn’t  mean  to lose my way — countryside hikes are  not my  governing zodiac  sign indicating

I’m in my element.

This body contains still waters wrapped in layers of skin.

No  teasing trickle or   babbling brook

nor a wishing well to reassure my hearts confidence within.

Summertime- the livings never easy

not when you’re a weed  on self destruct,

especially when the sun shines on  and makes blossoming

a gift without the morning sickness

That sense of queasy.

Rudimentary realisation.

Desolate

Deception.

Dark sunglasses can’t make me incognito to —

Looking back-

I should  of clapped my hands

, in breathless awe when the sunset—

lowered gently against the abstract  backdrop

Tropical orange salmon, pink sprayed skies.

Pay my respects —

Let it rest when it his time to slip down and fall.

Reap what you sow.

I deal with every blow.

Turbulent Winds commands my flight against   common ground

I find myself high up  and all alone

the comedown — finds me face down in muddy bog marsh — eyes arrested by a facetious fog —

Not even a bird to sing me an ode of encouragement to aid me back home.

we come into this world alone and we die alone.

Money, stuff — the acquisition of property

— it all gets left behind when we lift the veil to step into the next body of energy-

stagnation left in a cadaver —

this is our vessel —

Our only claim to earth’s  throne.

Seasoned Cycles of

life,

death,

regeneration,

rebirth.

Change –

it’s contradictory to our nature.

Wearily wallow over wilted, dead plants — tomorrow I’ll throw them away.

 procrastination

Embrace the opaque

the possibility of a welcome winter

undisturbed silence-solace only to be found in untouched fallen snowflakes.

Trigger the cycle to fall — this is autumn.

Death and decay I feel implacably broken.

This idea of pressing flowers, dried

Into bookmarks is a nostalgic notion.

Shouldn’t I let it go and embrace the tremors, the blast of the callous   cousins cold and colder

A gift of this perilous season?

anti climatized.

I live on an island full of tall trees in treason for being out of season.

Let these words be enough.

Be my reason.

On my knees begging for hands to let go of me-especially those who touch are rough.

Grant me sight to see-

permit  my body and soul to feel the spectrum

exhilarating and painful emotion.

Facing  forward to a future

 smelling the unsullied  scent of rebirth

A possible sight spotting of   Tigger

ready to  uncoil  and bounce into spring

 For the awakening of the blessed bees, Lilly white lambs and a hereuse holiday closer to the ocean.