I'll stick to reading children's books. I've made forays into adulthood: all it seem to have is the acrid smell of burning dreams. ...there are no fairies in the world of adults, though plenty of witches; no redemption, merely a grave; love is so full of conditions it doesn't seem like happily ever after. Puppies grow up you know, And teddy bears wear out. The books have no pictures - or they do: terrible word-pictures of the fallacy of human existence. I'll stick to children's books. Published in Whispers, July 2015
The message is supreme;
Born in the heart,
and lilting itself
from tongue to tongue,
throwing its scent
over wind and wave;
travelling on dots
or fingers
when blindness
or silence bar its way.
It hews itself into stone
or burns itself onto magnetic discs;
it is the message that lives
and I exist
solely to pass it on.