my rooms
my places, my hideaway
with the mental turmoil
that we all swim in –

the road runs low
and age,
brings a different glow

so temptation –
gave you the rod and the line
life with its shafts of light
provides us with all the time

tell a joke –
falling from pursed lips
what prize –
for your horticultural insanity
your potting shed mentality

you be arrogant
and you think
you live apart –
from the rest of us

life does –
it throws spanners into the works
knives at your board
it whips up a storm
and then plots a different course

there is what i call the domino effect
when it all falls down
when thoughts link and conspire
when it adds up
to leave you firmly stuck in the mire

we are angry –
but anger needs a channel
and despite the right being so dirty
the dispossessed suckle on mother’s flannel

we build up lives
that we hope will float
husbands and wives
like castles with their moats