This Life

The podcast is here
This life is my life,
wrapped up in a hand-knitted cape,
matching hat, contrasting scarf,
cold hands, warm heart*,
naked as the day I was born,
Many thousand buttons
sewn on with love,
different sizes, different shapes,
hand-picked from here, from there,
from kindness bestowed,
And the fringe sways
a happy, hippy attitude,
an underlining hem of
real magic and dreamful
joy for the child smiling
over mundanity.
And the trim skims
wishes fastened,
witch ways,
hope in this life, my life,
that keeps me
warm, complete,
pleats concertinaed
with these and them,
the good, the mad,
the liars, the inspired,
the rejected, the cherished,
the vile and misunderstood,
in a zigzagged helix
of being,
in being,
my life.
This life, my life, knows
it doesn’t want you,
though the mind has tried,
the heart won’t be convinced,
or comply, just to
please you.
Because this life, is my life,
wrapped up in a hand-knitted cape,
matching hat, contrasting scarf,
and you are a loose thread,
unravelling me,
one stitch at a time.
* saying courtesy of my nan, who has a very warm heart ” and despite the scientists disproving it, I believe her.

5 thoughts on “This Life

  1. Emotionally complex and each stanza is complete on it’s own but are still linked together by that loose thread. The last two stanzas could have applied to the last year of my life and it was good to read those feelings, if that makes any sense.

  2. wow….!! I really enjoyed reading this piece
    ‘ for the child smiling
    over mundanity.’
    simple but profound

  3. Wow! This is wonderful and so very brilliant. I love the way you’ve captured details of a life within the textures and complexions of textiles and clothes … your inventive cleverness always amazes me! 🙂

    The last stanza is simply breathtaking.

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