Pie

Pie is warming

Pie is delicious

Pie is like

A trip to Mauritius

The prospect is good

And full of promise

But fish pie will lose friends

If you take it to the office

What’s that smell?

Who lives in a cave?

You shouldn’t put fish

In the microwave!

People get angry

The smell doesn’t lie

But apart from that

Most people like pie.

A change of space

A change of space,

And a change of pace,

No petrol station tannoy,

Or loud cars that race.

The silence hangs,

On the wall like a frame,

Igniting thoughts,

Like a gas stove flame.

The quiet in the room,

Lets the mind wander and return,

No chance of finding distractions,

As you find new thoughts and learn.

A bit of peace and quiet,

You can breathe at your speed,

No need to match the chaos,

Of the traffic like a stampede.

Slowing down is powerful,

You can listen to every thought,

Time to think about your thinking,

To write some down, of course.

To-do lists

What do I do with to-do lists?

One day they’re to-do

Then they’re done.

Maybe I’ll start a museum,

To show people my lists

Just for fun.

Hey look what he did,

The washing!

Or maybe made baba ganoush,

Perhaps he bought a wizard’s cape,

To help leave the room with a swoosh!

My lists are sat pending,

And then they are done,

Just as quickly as they are written.

I don’t know what to do with them then,

So I hide them in my mittens.

Morning light

Morning light creeping,

Through curtains and blinds,

A vague clue to the weather,

And roughly the time,

I listen; no rain,

And I can’t hear the sun,

I should get up soon,

But probably not run.

You bring a new day,

And with it new things,

But first, in the distance,

The birds start to sing.

Morning light, you’re the start,

Of todays’s next chapter,

You’re a stage direction,

And rarely an actor.

A narrative device who says,

‘Lights up, lets go’

Or the subtle unveiling,

Of a world covered in snow.

You always see first,

What others cannot,

As you light up the world,

And melt off the frost.

Morning light,

Keep being, your mysterious you,

Your charisma and charm,

Is matched by so few.

Your stoic and still,

Yet constantly moving,

You bring warm to the darkness,

Which is subtly soothing.

Water tank

Water tank, water tank,

You mysterious beast,

How do we get your warm watery treats?

I’ll figure you out,

And I’ll find your spout,

So I can tip you up and pour you out!

New Home

We’ve got the keys,

We’ve scouted the space,

Now the time has come at last,

To move our things from A to B,

Move to the present,

from the past.

The moment that we,

Picked up our keys,

In our local neighbourhood,

We stepped back out,

To where we used to live,

In the street, where we’d just stood.

Home will be where you make it,

No matter where or when that could be,

Home is the feeling you take with you,

From people, and memories.

As we said goodbye to our old flat,

We won’t be there any more,

But we’ll take things from it with us,

Just not the keys or the door.

Morning habits, making coffee,

Cooking food, and eating it down,

We’ll still take the same home with us,

Just on the other side of town.

New neighbours

Moving house is simple,

We take things from A to B,

But changing neighbours,

Can have its dangers,

I think you would agree.

One of them might practise bowling,

In the upstairs flat,

Another one might keep a sewer,

Filled with their pet rats,

Maybe the neighbours are percussionists,

Perfunctory, explosions of noise,

And another could be an fire performer,

In the garden and swinging their pois.

Perhaps the neighbours are none of these things,

Not noisy or circus performers,

But whoever they are,

I hope they enjoy,

Their new neighbours as much as their former.

I’m looking forward to meeting our neighbours,

And I hope that they’re ready for me,

First meetings are great,

The start of the slate,

And filled with possibility.

Keys

A key opens a door,

Which lets you in,

Into a space to be,

But it also holds moments,

Memories and times,

Unlocked with a simple key.

Behind this door,

It’s another door!

Or maybe a hungry lion!

If I say I know,

Just what you’ll find,

Then I’m sure that I’d be lying.

You know the space,

And have seen the place,

But what are the times it holds?

You come out of the storm,

And into the warm,

Where your next piece of life unfolds.

Two and a half years

For two and a half years,

I’ve called this flat home,

New jobs, Covid, and more,

It knows my morning routine,

My coffee machine,

And the meals which I’ve cooked galore.

I first came in with a face mask,

Impressed by the price and the ceiling,

It’s been a first home, for us together,

So of course it’s a slightly sad feeling.

I’ll remember this flat so fondly,

Walks in the meadows, and close to town,

If someone’s around, ‘I’ll be there soon,

Once I’m down the three flights to get down.’

With every goodbye is a new beginning,

A new place for us to belong,

So my memories, I’ll keep,

But soon, I’ll sleep,

In a new place which I’ll call home.

Priorities

If I have 24 hours to do everything

What should I do first?

Go to the gym? Or Rehydrate?

So I don’t struggle with thirst.

I also need to go to work,

For eight hours and it’s tiring,

After that I might just feel,

Like my neurons are floating not firing.

I’d like to make a delicious meal,

But that can take some time,

So I’ll have a look at microwave dinners,

Yes, that could do just fine.

While I wait for my food to spin,

I’ll put on a wash as well,

The kitchen is spinning, clothes are swimming,

I’ll be full and I won’t smell.

So now I’ve sorted all of that,

I need to message my friends,

I look at my phone, I’ve fallen asleep,

Now it’s time to start again.