Streams and Dreams

Refer to post from Claudette 15/1/18  at on her blog and pic re platypus

Dear Daughter,
Kindly tell your platypus
to keep in the stream;
I’ll be lots happier
if he’s out of my dream!
He was there last night
wearing a beret quite bright!

It was ever so blue
with a band of red,
and worn on his back,
instead of his head.

He swam around slowly
with never a care;
while I thought-dream wise,
“What’s that cap doing there?”
It just looked so queer
like the beanie I’d made,
that I started to fear
it was a platypus parade.

This isn’t a tale
it happened to me;
so if he stays in the stream
and out of my dream
how happy I’ll be!

{Dr, Seuss might have written,
The Cat in The Hat
But if I wrote, The Platy in A Cap
I’d beat him at that!}


I wake slowly,
to the quiet
of a yet unused day;
the tangle of dreams
still etched
on my mind:
slices of the past
that my hands
want to hold onto,
so that I might savour
the feeling they brought.
Chaotic images of people
who once filled my world
with light.

Is it love that ignites
the cold embers of memory
to a cheering warmth,
when I surrender conscious thought
to slumber?


The leaves are turning colour once again it seems.
Another season opening my heart to foolish dreams.
But are hearts ever foolish that beat to quiet dreams?
For Autumn isn’t always, and life not as it seems.
The leaves of course will fall from every changing tree,
As branches bare and brown hold out their length to me.
But branches rest when leafless; and when winter storms are past,
The soft green shoots will tremble as life returns at last.
So hope, my foolish heart for springtime’s tender green,
Even when the leaves are red or barest branches seen.