PERFORMANCE TIME

CHICKS!

I don't think it fair to be left out in the cold,
especially when one is small, not very old.
Left all alone, to wonder and roam about,
and then get eaten up, by a bad wolf no doubt!

Some folks are so careless, they don't give a hoot,
I'd like to give them a good kick, with my old boot!
But these two little darlings, will be alright,
I'll hold them  safe in my arms, the whole long night.

Trish   2012

TILDA

I know I'm rather tubby,
well OK, downright chubby!
It all began when I, decided on the lute,
or maybe it was when, I tried to play the flute?
Whatever the case, may be, I'll never be the same,
I've got the feeling, chubby women are left out in the rain.
No one hurries to them, and says, 'Share my umbrella'.
It's only a little thing, but it helps to meet a fella.

I know I'm rather chubby, and it shouldn't really matter,
it doesn't alter things, I can still have a good natter.
But I do miss the looks I got, when I was super slim,
that said 'How about it  sweetie? lets tickle the devil's chin'.

Trish   2012

SANTA IS COMING TO TOWN

I'm waiting for Santa, I've done all I can.
I know he'll come, he's that sort of man.
It's a new place for me, and one that I like,
I'm going to wait right here, if needs be, all night!

MA'AT THE GIVER OF BREATH?

What thought  breathes the first and last breath?
And what of those who must mourn, those left,
to live out  time in its ruthless grace,
left to yearn for their lost love's face?

What thought  honestly, judges ever,
at the weight of the heart, by just a feather,
those worthy of entrance to either heaven or hell?
And can one plead mercy, before this feathered belle.?

Trish   2012

THE UGLY BOOTS

My toes are all squashed tight,
my heels just won't sit right.
The boys call me puss-in-boots,
my heart cries out, what's the use!

But something within me knows,
that as years pass, beyond my nose,
one day I'll turn from an ugly, child,
into a pretty little rose, running wild!

Trish   2012

BROKEN CHAINS

The flowering of the broken chains
the forging of the finest shapes,
makes the metal gleam colours.

Ears, are coiled gold ornaments,
mouth, as a small silver bowl, ready,
to be filled with ripples of liquid light.

Trish   2012

SUBMISSIVE MISS

Speak no words, seek none too,
listen with respect, respect all I do.
If questions arise, let them sink back,
into the unexplored wilderness of the track,
that leads one swiftly onto another place,
asks of one, look! into a stranger's face.

Let loose ends flutter as a child's toy may,
so their bright eyes, learn, to  laugh and play.
Let a narrow lane way, of stone hard dust,
be even the wilderness track if it must.

Whatever comes to hand, simply grasp and dream,
for the pickpocket steals from all it seems.
To speak no words, to receive only few,
is most likely the very end of you.
So, be it, in lane way , fiery soul or dirt track,
remember, remember well,  the new way back.

Trish   22/12/12

HELEN

HORUS GROWING UP

Horus, son of Osiris and Isis.

THE GUARDIAN ANGEL

THE BRIDE GOING AWAY

'The Bride' by Trish   2012

THE GANG

THE BRIDE

'By Trish 2012'

SHADOW'S LIGHT

LILLIAN THE BRIDE'S MAID

BAD HAIR DAY

PEDRO

Pedro dressed for his nightly performance.

GETTING A PERSPECTIVE

TWIN SISTER

This is  Pia's  twin sister, Piata.

SURROUNDED

I've surrounded myself in colour,

from my toes up to my head.

There's paint splashed on the walls,

and lots more on my new bed!

Trish   10/12/12

BALM OF BLISS

MELANTHA

Dearest Darkness of them all,
when I should hear the sacred call,
whispered to me on breath of life,
embracing all, last day and night,
let me, surrender to the final bliss,
of breaths brush and farewell kiss.

Trish   8/12/12

PIA

Sometimes the way is difficult, or, even bad,
but the worst thing must surely be, someone, sad.
Pia is left wondering, what, the way, is all about?
The secrets, the strife, she wants to just shout!

'To hell with all the problems, confusion, the lot!
If I could fix it, I would!, but tell me, what?
am I to do, when things go all confused and amiss,
I'd gladly place the healing balm of a loving kiss.

Upon the brow of anyone who needs, the balm of love,
put my shoulder to the wheel, help give a good hard shove!
But the way is not so simple, as fixing daily trouble,
no, the way, is delicately  poised, a giant, brilliant bubble'.

Tushie   7/12/12

THE PATH OF COLOR

'Try some of the lovely pastels' she said.

So, swiftly, to the path of colour, I fled.

Tushie   7/12/12

UP AND OVER

She's coming up and over the hill,
really, it's quite a thrill.
Even though, the road ahead,
looks a lot like, an unmade bed..

Tushie   7/12/12

DIVING DEEPLY

WARRIOR WOMAN

'A Warrior Woman'  by  Trish

I met a fine lot of folk today,
willing to share, help show the way.

PEANUT

I feel I look an awful fright!

Something ghastly occurred last night.

You see, my owner lets me roam abroad,

I know it's wrong but I get bored.

So if I don't look my usual collected self,

don't demonstrate my usual charismatic stealth,

bear with me as I gather and regain my cool,

after falling into our neighbours pool.

There was awful confusion, and it went way beyond,

their complaint, I was found in their fish pond!

How was I to know the difference, tell me? please!

between a giant fish pond, or the South China seas?

Tushie   1/12/12

MONSTER ME

Monster, monster, woe is me,
I'd dearly love to live in a tree.
Instead of roaming all about,
with this fierce, ferocious snout!

Jungles are meant for those of the wild,
not me! Nature's most innocent child.
Oh do, hear my plea beloved jungle queen,
I'm not at all, the rascal, that I can seem.

Tushie   1/12/12

LUNA

'Luna'  by  Trish

LOVELY LADY

'Lovely Lady'  by  Trish

FLOWER FACES

'Flower Faces'   by   Trish

ALL AT SEA

'All At Sea'  by Trish

I'm all at sea,
my babies and me.

SUNNY ANGER

'Sunny Anger'   by   Trish

SAILING THE MOON

'
Sailing The Moon'   by   Trish

ISIS

'Isis'   by   Trish

THIS PLACE

'This Place'   by   Trish

PEARL

BURNING BRIGHT

Flames afire, fierce at night,
burning up with all my might.

GOOD FRIENDS

Took and Tumble are on the road again.

And still they are, the very best of friends.

How they yearn to see their home once more,

and especially their wonderful friends of yore.

Where they've been is a story to tell,

it involves others (of course) as well.

So pull up a chair, and settle right down,

cause, Tookie, and Tumble are coming to town!

Tushie   16/10/12

EYES OF ICE

Ice eyes spit, spark, glitter and glisten,
yet, you see nothing, nor do you listen.
Words choke, on the tip of your torched breath,
and will remain, unspoken, long after your death.

Blond curls fall over your fierce, handsome face,
in old age, there's still the structure, a strong trace,
of the fiery god, you once thought you were,
in spite of the burden you carried for her.

She sneered and snarled into that handsome face,
cursed you for making her barren life, a waste;
said she deserved to be worshipped, deserved better,
than a pitance pay cheque delivered of the postman, by letter.

Years, wars, harm, hurts, came, as they will,
while, her rage and hatred hid neath the guise of one ill.
The toll of resentment ever deepened with time,
she did die, before  fruit, would ripen, on the orphaned vine.

Tushie   25/11/12

AT THE ROUND TABLE

'I just knew' she said,
 'yours, would be a round table,
for that's a sign of welcome'.
.

How often laughing voices, over this table had  rung,
clattering plates, and bright eyes, said more than wagging tongues.
With glinting glasses brimming, children dashing pell mell,
such completeness could not consider, for whom may toll a bell.

What was it I saw lurking, in a corner of that room,
In afternoon sunlight,  hiding darkly, casting gloom.
Was it a shadow foretelling, of days to be, now long past?
When tireless children, ran bare foot, on damp greenest  grass?

One year our curly willow, withered,  why, I'll never know,
but after that  everything changed, it was time for us all to go,
into the deeper valley, each on their own path.
But seated, at the  round table quietly even now, I hear the echo, of a laugh.

Tushie   25/11/12

FRIENDS

What a thrill it was that evening,
we went to visit the circus.
I'd no money, no cares, not a worry,
apart from a ticket to purchase

Now, what is a child to do,
when left to fend for them self?
There was little chance of entrance,
without contacts, influence, or wealth.

Of course, that was not the case,
so tell me, what was a body to do?
Well, I discovered, I was rich, with friends,
Danny, your pal, paid, with agreement of you.


Tushie   24/11/12

JAGGED JOURNEY

JAGGED JOURNEY

(An experience in a Psychologists Office, maybe, fifteen years ago)

----------------------

'Where are you

now?' 

                                                                                                                            asks
                                                                                                                                       a voice.



                                                            'I'm up high
                                                                 in,
                                                               a corner,

                                                                      of                        

                                                                                                                                                                             
                                                                    a

                                                                 room.

                                                               crouched,
                                                                 hiding,
                                                                behind,
                                                                a tiny
                                                                                           
                                                                             torn,
                                                                                              brittle,
                                                                                                   bit,
                                                                                              of                                                            

                                                                                   wallpaper.

                                                                                    The scrap,
                                                                                    scratches,
                                                                                    scrapes,
                                                                                     touches,
                                                                                      the,
                                                                                      white
                                                                                     plaster
                                                                                     ceiling.
                                                                                     And,
                                                                                     here,
                                                                                     I wait,

                                                                                     to be
                                                                                    born.

               
                                                                                     And
                                                                                      so,
                                                                                     I am
.
                 
 Breath,
of Sound
awakens me.
Vibrations,
call me,
to my heart.

My shell
 world,
cracks
breaks
shatters
to
pieces.
I flail,
fall,
into
life,
land
on
my
feet,
stay.
stand.
Breath
into being.
Say,
yes,
to
my
life.
To
My
Life

.

Tushie   24/11/12

DIVING DEEP

Seal like she slipped, into the dark,

yet again, avoided the shark.

So deep she dived with skill and grace,
a wet silver, lit her pale face.


Time passed, a swift shadowed hand,
of silence, over her midnight land.

Tears fell, fell soft, as warm rain,
so deep she dived, and fled the shark again.

Tushie   18/11/12


.

FAR AWAY

What did I search for that night, far out over the sea;
waited with begged breath, for it to come to me?
What was it I hoped for, all those long years ago?
I think I have the answer, but still, it's not easy to know.

What was the silence, I waltzed in, all on my own?
It was so full of mystery, and yet, I was, there alone.
That night when the full moon hung heavy, over the silent sea,
how cherished I felt, as the moon, dreamed deeply, over me.

The sea so still, so secret, no sound, a cloudless sky.
Far off a phantom echo, I tried to catch, as it shivered by.
Leaves of gold light shimmered on those waters dark,
as stars, splintered wildly, piercing my questing heart.

Tushie   15/11/12

ONCE UPON A DAY

Once upon a day, a long time ago,
a fairy visited me, she said this, that, and so.
Because her kind  words, promised me so much,
I then promised her, I'd never, never,  rush.

Many years passed, and I moved so slow,
at times, folk thought I was asleep, but oh no!
I was merely keeping, my promise made in the past,
and will do so, for ever more, so the fairy's words will last.

Tushie   4/11/12

FULL OF BREATH

Birth of breath and delight,
born from dark, and then light,
let the sounds soar of soul,
swell, with new, welcome old.

Let words, sights and sounds,
take earth in greenest grounds,
then spring forth with new life,
bated breath, bloom, take, full flight.

Tushie.

VISITING BLUNDER-THUNDERLAND

I'm going to an end of year party,
full of frogs, fantasy,  both sad and hearty.
I'm all dressed up for my final part;
and I know, to be there from the start.

Past parties were always strange affairs,
but from now on, who really cares?
Not me! and I'm the very first to say,
this is the last! strange party I'll  EVER attend, TODAY!!

Tushie   5/11/12

HANDFULS OF BREATH

The inner and the outer, are so darned close.
I sometimes wonder which I love the most!
Those days of black and white, were not a good idea,
those days, made possibilities, fade and disappear.

See me stretch and reach,  far as ever I can,
not that I have a set, laid out, plot or plan.
Unless of course, it counts, to paint all hurt away,
which I did in handfuls as I painted with breath to day.

Tushie   3/11/12