Writer’s pursuit

Where do writers get their ideas from?

All the world wants to know!

Do they sneak off to times gone

while we’re sleeping

and watch the goings on as a show?

 

Do they skip back and forth,

bartering in many different tongues?

Do they bundle old tales and morph them

into diverse, interlocking shapes

and hope the originals won’t see them hung?

 

Perhaps they come in dreams

drifting down rivers and across channels.

Do they filter onto pages in reams,

spider-fast ink overtaking the pores,

to at last become a slab of legible panels?

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Butterfly Nets

I recall the shine of your teeth in the dark

as you smile at me

in a moment of snatched privacy.

Outside, the stars hang high

though the moon has hidden itself under a duvet of clouds.

Whispers of the breeze

rustle off our clothes as we speak of future adventures

when time doesn’t have to be caught

with butterfly nets

and the key in my pocket will be ours,

not mine.