Thimble

She places the silver thimble on her thumb
Threads the needle
Winds the bobbin
Her face a crown of concentration
Totally absorbed in her old fashioned hobby
Her stitches are neat and tidy
All in a perfect row
My fingers shake too much to compare
Look, she says
All pretty and glowing
A new dress for a new day
Still the perfect blue
White crisp apron
She wears it well
I smile at her enthusiasm
Silently encourage her joy
Now I am dressed, what shall we do today
Watch the rain
Play with words
The usual rhythm of time spent wondering
The thimble makes a tiny ring as it slides off her finger onto the wooden table
All finished
The ground smells fresh
The rain quietly splashes the window
We study it quietly
Watching the world is a new hobby in itself.

Branches

The clouds take root in the azure blue skies
Light hits the branches
We are singing
Bright and shy
Like angels
Our thoughts are shapeless
We ask too many questions
Ones without answers she whispers
It is a delicate afternoon
The sun burns the moon
We shift delicately in the half light
Finding our feet
Aching to dance
This moment will pass
As all do
But of course she giggles
She is always right
We knock twice upon the door
No one answers
We are not allowed in
Goose bumps line our flesh in the cool breeze
Just like the lines on the branches
Our flesh is dimpled and marked
We light a flame to warm up
The sun fades and the moon shines
We are settled from our work
Everything feels pure and fertile
We close our eyes weakly and wish for magical dreams
I am sure they will come if we want them.

Dance

The finches land on the rain pipe
The grass is cut
The sky is still
Alice twirls and waltzes in her crisp blue dress
I expect it will rain soon
For now we soak up the sun like cats lolling in the heat
Dreamily
Greedily
Bodies sprawled
Hair clean around our shoulders
Can we think of the time before
So far away
I think we got a little lost, she says
I think we did too little cricket
Let's not go back there
One step forward in a giddy dance
Our hands don't shake any more
Our teeth sparkle
It feels like a whole new world
But in fact all we do is turn in circles
Light on our toes
Until the moon grazes the sky and then we sleep
Behind the curtains we hear the birds
A gentle song
The clocks tick tock
We made it through another day
And another day will come.

Sage

The sage brush drifts in through the window
We are singing poems
Gently
Under our breath
Everything feels dizzy and light
We want to run but the rocks in our shoes halt us
We are quite happy
Lying in the sun
Counting leaves
Everything a blur
A magical dream
It is the simple things which keep us busy
Everything is fine when we think of them
It's so easy to tumble down
But we grip the edge with all our might
As night falls the smoke subsides
Heavy clouds signal a charm
How many wishes will we wait for
We wash the sage from our fingers and lie softly together.

Perfume

She sprinkles sweet lavender on my feet
The air is thick with her love
We dance giddy in the night
Cheeks aglow
Feet aching
We both smile at the moon
Giggle at the stars
All around us is the sweet chime
Tiny bells whispering in the wind
They lull us into a half sleep
Glorious and drowsy
Just on the edges of dreams
Sweet ones I hope
She whispers gently in my ear
The smell of her soft skin is intoxicating
A comfort
Hopes and wishes
Secrets and dreams
My feet are bare and purple
The scent surrounds us like a cloud
We float upon it
Drift slowly into sleep.

String

We have velvet wrinkles on our skull
Too much thinking Alice chuckles
We are on the prowl
Searching for seven stories
We sit and grow
Listen and change
The rain splashes the plate
Pulls fifteen inscrutable strings
It ruffles her skirt
We are doddering daughters
Blathering humility still
Not knowing quite where we are
Relishing the adventure
The wrinkles ease
Our face relaxes
We slip quietly into sleep
Some days are better than others.

News

The finches set a course across the water
Alice looks up
Knuckles greasy and bared
Maybe they are delivering the mail
Little notes of swirling news
I sit still
Shimmer and groan as if I am melting
The wind chime knocks upon the window
Short notes
Like oaths
We have to find the signs
Measure the beats
Short wantings rarely spared
We take a seat on the curb
Look up to the skies
Try and remember the path the finches took
It is good to be outside
We wish for cool air and a steady hand
All the better to write with.