Inertia kept me idle as activity seemed useless in the
big wide emptiness of a wasted weekend, only when
you explained on Sunday night you’d received a new
project at five pm Friday did life start to make sense
When you’re distant without explaining why I lose my
footing, fall into an ever-looming chasm of Despair. A
boon was reading Pilgrim’s Progress short version by
John Bunyon. I, too, lost my companions, Hope and
Faithful, in the black Dungeon wherein spirits dwelt,
even excerpts from Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre
did not help, only when you admitted the problem
while we watched the glittering dreams
On Strictly Come Dancing and I chose my queen did
you smile, albeit unwillingly, and the earth tilted
back to stabilise in the sweet meadows of
Common Sense and Calm Rationality…
Diary Sunday 24 February 2013
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