Feel Free To Rejoice (Revised)

Christmas, the message visionaries dreamed long ago,
a Child who came to accord everyone – child, woman
and slave, the same status and rights that applied at
the time to rich, high and powerful men only; the new
world they dreamed of gave equal worth to members
of the human family equally – and this message was
spread through the birth of a child

For believer and nonbeliever alike a wonderful idea if
we forgo debate whether literally true, concentrate on
the symbolism only, let its meaning shine through; and
as we regain this beautiful story from despoilment and
misuse by covetous churches to enjoy it as individuals,
the light grows overpowering and we freely rejoice
without paying homage to an interloper, a supposed

intermediary holding people hostage under a reign of
terror – today we rejoice while paying respect only to
transforming power of dreams and ideas….

Frail Sailing Ship (Revised)

Slowly wrapping my parent’s presents in special paper,
decorating my sister’s gift with gold and silver glitter,
putting the frail sailing ship made of shells and wood
in a box to keep its mast from breaking; it’s a memory
of the time dad showed me how to draw a sailing ship
on the wall-painted blackboard when I was small

My mother’s mauve-with-pink-roses pillow is in a pink
bag, I’m delighted looking at beautiful things, my lilac
scarf draped around my new straw hat, artfully hung
on my lamp-cum-hat-stand, I’m sitting in rich golden
sunshine, watching amazing animals on Nat Geo Wild –
this the best time of the year, just before Christmas

On My Own (Revised)

If I had known you weren’t listening to anything
I said I wouldn’t have become upset; once I got
it into my head you only wanted to be driver or
organiser and supervisor, and not be bothered
having fun with the rest I went off on my own

enjoying prospects of dwelling in my very fertile
imagination, buying flowers, visiting a school
book fair to admire the brightly coloured covers,
going on a long walk on the beach, gazing at
washed out waves, kids playing in the surf

dreaming of being a thin sprite in a dress made
of sea water drops kicked up with my feet – not
crystal imitations, the real thing – that ought to
defy gravity – suspended like that – magnetised,
they would cling to my form; came home, smiled
at my soul’s effigy sitting on the bed –

a doll with a juvenile face I bought today – tried
to write but nerves in my hand paralysed by
vertebrae in my neck, went dead…
Saturday 15 December 2012

The Art Of Dreaming

I just wanted to hang out in the shop
with things that were interesting and
you refused, adamantly insisting we
leave then and there - it would have
cost you nothing to wait a few
minutes more

I just wanted company on the beach so
I could swim without being all alone in the
world and you refused, your cricket game
not even on yet - it would have cost you
nothing to spend a few minutes more with
me and you refused

Don't offer me a new cell phone with gadgets
galore - I'm bored by technology - I just want
TIME and you will not give me that; I want time
to stare at the flowers I like - see visions I can't
realise - I want space for dreams - keep your
ice-cold reality

Let me be alone in my mind, I cannot escape
into a book, this is the price I pay to become
fully functional at work, an average robot; as
soon as my mind is accustomed to the new
regime, I shall study the art of dreaming
again…

[Friday 14 December 2012]

Friends with the sun, wind and sea

Went into the shop seeking flowers, deliberating between
two bunches, one yellow and one pink, when my eye was
caught by a colourful top, finally I went away with two new
tops and a new hat - the other hats did not work, as you
can deduce, the wide-brimmed silvery one (do not mention
the black Mafia one at all)  was too large for my height, found
a straw hat with purple hatband - perfect

Went walk-about by myself after lunch, found a new invisibility
cloak (any large black top that makes one recede into the back-
ground counts for this), a white scarf - tying my new straw hat
with the scarf, looking like Miss Marple on the Orient Express -
also found mosaic tiles in yellow and green for my twin sis,
bought a book on Maps of the World - Piri Reis included -
for myself - what a brilliant find

Went swimming, finally caught those big waves at high tide, re-
newed my acquaintance with the sea at its best when the sea
is my exciting friend, though I pulled in my legs to roll like
a stone, the waves were so strong my legs unrolled in a back-
somersault, my neck in whiplash, my affair with the ocean as
passionate as ever, tomorrow we shall continue our relationship,
the sea and I - being friends with the sun, wind and sea

Makes life so easy - with delight only a heartbeat away

[Thursday 13 December 2012]

Wrestled It To The Ground

Today I tackled the growing heap of washing and wrestled it
to the ground, enjoying the work as the lack of achievement
which marks the holiday season wears me down, I managed
to worsen the sunburn by going on scary fun park rides with
Tiaan, swam in a calm sea lacking waves and cut a small slit
in my swimsuit to pour out the sand which gathers between
the two layers of material

Tomorrow we shall split up and each visit his favourite place;
I shall be off to the Bargain Bookshop; yesterday I bought
mother a cushion with roses sewed on top and heard angel
voices sing as I carried it home, bought dad the sailing ship
I have earmarked for him five years ago, also bought yellow
flowers identical to those in my office, the theme of light and
sweetness still filling my heart

Wednesday 12 December 2012

Scared And Unheard

Sunburnt, sorry for myself, lost in holiday-making,
the only challenge is making peace with myself,
no obstacle to overcome, no problem except de-
ciding what to eat when, going to the beach and
surviving the heat while you give the sea a wide
berth; why on earth did you want to come if this
is how you feel - at least the kids are having fun

Found a friend to hang out with, playing pool while
I gather the clothes to be washed, watch the cars
passing in the street - wondering how I fell into the
trap of holiday-spirit without the power to survive, I
am just like Marvin, the paranoid Android – at work
I fear those long documents, here I fear the lack of
challenges – it is my theory that I cannot die

For fear that when dead I would be bored and make too
much noise in the afterlife realm - boredom would send
me to the wrong frequency where those depressed and
cynical souls lurk – an eternity being depressed would be
hell indeed, maybe I should learn to sing loud and long in
the street like Edith Piaf did, instead of singing softly to my-
self as I always do, maybe it would develop my voice

Maybe I could sing for my life instead of driving my family
wild - but given my Marvin-like propensities and complete
inability to be wild and inconsiderate; I suppose singing
will remain in the domain of the scared and unheard…