OH MY WORD!

He likes the way
the words dance

before his eyes then
off the page and then

just keep going
imprinting themselves

on whatever
they come across

whether it be the wall
or curtains

so that he has to yell
"stOP!" loudly inside his mind

to get them to stand still
march them back onto the page.

The black marks on the page
that people call writing

like to play
with his eyes

playing such practical
jokes on his senses.

Morphing from
one thing to

another...shape
shifting sense into non sense.

Big R's & big B's backwards
at coming forwards.

small b's and d's
Loki like always

up to mischief
changing this to that and back

Tittles always fly off from
the little "i's"

"t's cross and
uncross themselves.

Find I have to always mind
my p's and q's.

He believes everyone
sees it so

how words can go
on strike and walk off the page

leaving it
blank.

Or glow or glimmer
or shimmer.

Didn't realise
this is all wrong

until someone smirks
"You're so. . .slow!"

Or "How dumb can
one get!"

He comforts himself
in the beauty of an ampersand

lost in the lines
of its curves.

Delighting in each sip
of a syllable.

Savouring each word
tasting it in his mind.

Time
slowed down.

"Shhhhh!" the words whisper.
"Don't give us away.

So he keeps schtum.
Keeps the words' secrets.

"Me and you Dónall!"
the words laugh


"Me and  ha ha
you!"