Sorry Nigel, I don’t know why I chose this item, it just jumped out at me!
Wooden button
Wooden button
She was hardly mutton dressed as lamb
Lamb to the slaughter
Her mother should have warned her
But she was hesitant, did linger
And the ring ended up upon her finger
Wooden button I have found
Remember how life swirled around
My defence
Was to disappear
The world went hazy and unclearu
And I went down the plug hole to save me from the fear
Wooden thing
Wood so smooth
So comforting to touch
When usually touch is just too much
You are safe and solid
When my existence is so rough and squalid
Wooden circles
The holes are in the middle
From which comes a ripple
The holes he bore
Well actually there were four
And the ripples that affected so much more
I tried to resist
Deny what resonated
But it persisted
Of all the things I had collated
Was it really this?
I hesitated
I waited
Then I put it back in the drawer
Where it had stayed for so many decades before
Wonderful stuff as always liz, both intriguing incredibly moving.
A wonderful tease at a deeper story. Well crafted, it works very well
You need never apologise for your Art Liz, What I wanted to achieve was to inspire folk to seek their own inspiration, if you can get in that mind-set, ( I call it magical thinking or where the silence sings) there's inspiration everywhere.
But you know that my friend, the button is the perfect example. So, after not reading you for so long I was delighted and curious, and not disappointed! There's the hallmark vibe of your art that is effortless to read, it just flows like treacle off a spoon, with the same sweetness of emotion and intellect, now if you'll excuse me I must read your words again. Thank you Liz.
Well told and touching reminiscence. Left me wondering about the past of both button and poet.
what a soft and comforting memory and ... memento. i could feel the soft, smooth wood in my mind.