Jumble sale.

It was blue and I knew it could not be a sea
and the waves that I saw were not people
waving to me
drowned in it anyway.

Seeing things in colour when the colour’s not there
and it’s all in the mind which is slightly unfair,
but definitely blue

and no plastic bags.

If I could swim on a whim or
a wing and a prayer and the
colour imagined
was the colour of your hair
and the waves were just curls
when you crinkle your eyes,
I’d be happier.

Making sense of some nonsense
and much of Nonsuch
touching all of the bases
the one-legged man
and his crutch,

they say,
‘he’s as mad as a hatter’
and that a’ can believe.

it’s bedtime and book to
be read time,
sleepy head’s having some
me time,
some time later I’ll sleep.

© 2019, John Smallshaw.