i write poetry
from the collective,
that resides within my mind

they gather often,
at the water cooler
or for coffee, tea
and a bit of a natter..

all my idio's and syncranicities
my ego,
and my shy shuffling humble-bumbler
the flambouyant quirke,
the little girl memories

all get the memo and out they come.

earth mother, surfer chick,  
daughter of despair,
moderator, instigator,
wanna-be litigator
acerberic premenstrual ditzbitch,
all represented there.


so in the end,
what you get to see;
are the minutes from the meetings,
or the gossip from the gatherings
the intimate murmurings...
from the musings.
of the legion, that ...
collectively
call themsevles
me.

Just a quick glimpse and
A smile or quirke
Same as it used to be
When I was 15
Just older and looking
Harder and laughing
Without seeing the humour
Not envious of age
Is what its like being in the
50's and its
Like Yesterday
As Paul Mc said
All my troubles seem so
Far away, and they
Are:)
Love the now, so glad its not
Like Yesterday☺





















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