So here are two pretty previously written poems that I have read several times whilst I try to calm myself down.
Mermaids Purse
Slowly striding
Eyes downcast
Over the pebbles
To find at last
The object subject
Of my hunt
Crunching footfall
On my town seafront
Travelling free upon the
tide
She sometime spins off
course
A building wind sweeps
wide
With every irresistible
wave
Her path is further lost
A deep sea shopping day
Hampered at every turn
Seaweed catches in her
hair
Wave on wave she’s tossed
Her little purse nipped
away
As stormy seas collide
Out of reach and no return
Tiny black purse
That held her fare
Torn from her hand forever
lost
Now its mine
I stoop down like a fool
It lays thrown up upon the
beach
Held in finders keepers
rule
Though I have in my hand
Her tiny empty purse
Does she watch me
From her watery place
And wish I’d give it back
A longing look lights her
face
The mermaid in the sea
Wishing Well
A strange little thing to
bring home for me
At the usual time he came
back for his tea
It took me quite by
surprise that day
I knew not for a moment
what to do or say
Nothing I had said had
expressed that need
A mystery as someone not
given to greed
He’d bought an antique
stone wishing well
Chose not to keep it in
the warehouse to sell
I had beavered away on a
garden transformation
A patio preferred to the
little ponds stagnation
Thus far he had not shown
a mind to interfere
With my plans with
secateurs and garden shears
He helped clear the pond
wall brickwork away
But left new plans for me
to have full and final say
My main thought was to
make the work easier
More clear space a little
bright and breezier
Myself no more enjoying
the first flush of youth
Seeking more simple
gardening work is the truth
Plain simplicity is at the
base of my adaptation
From hard work my plot to
ease is my translation
When the scheme was more
or less completed
The scene hoped for was
not the view that greeted
Too pure and straight the
lines that took the eye
It was not after all
surrounding the palace at Versailles
It lacked a point of
interest around the bird feeder
A plain wall there seemed
to be the eye leader
Intuitively sensing a wife’s
disappointment
He sought to remove this
fly in the ointment
In answer to my need for
some new inspiration
Thus far lacking in my quiet
supplication
He presented the rugged
little story tale piece
Suggesting it might the
formal symmetry decrease
Building it up gradually
to show at its best
A smile spread on my face
as I watched the rest
Sloping roof fitted on and
a handle and winder
My postage stamp garden an
Olde England reminder
Where water once was is
now planted with flowers
A dainty touch to the
garden where we spent idle hours
The tiny wishing well to
ponder in times of recreation
The choice to wish wishes
wishing in moderation
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