Pass the butter,dear.

I’ve not seen God yet,but I’ve had burning thrush for a few weeks.
I’ve not seen the light so far but I am getting new glasses for Xmas.
I’ve not spoken in tongues as far as I know but we are eating flesh on Fridays.
I’ve not met any angels recently but a handsome man said if I went round to his flat I’d give birth in about 9 months though to what he never told me.A pariah?
I have just bought an android voice tablet and if I get the app it will recite the ten commandments.It just mewed!
I’m not being very good as I am afraid of being in heaven with all the dull people.
I went in a church once.I had insomnia so the sermon helped me to get off then they woke me up with bread and wine.No butter,though…. funny lot these Christians, but nice with it.
I have volunteered to help the Romeless over Xmas
They say God was an invention but of whom?You couldn’t make it up,could you?

 

I wore a mitten

I was looking at a clothes catalogue just now and thought,
That’s a nice pair of gloves.
When I looked again I saw it was a party dress.
Oh,my.I must need my eyes testing.
I shall be alright as long as I don’t go out in a glove by mistake for a dress.

 

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I went out in a mitten last night
I gave all the neighbours a fright.
They are collecting for me
To buy me some tea….
Now a tea bag would be a fine sight.

Or how about being dressed in some peel
Which off any banana I’d steal.
Then I’d give men the slip
As they slid off my hip
Some days I almost feel real.

All the winter coats are being sold off
As the autumn was not freezing or rough.
But I wear woolen vests,
Which keep off the pests.
Though men are endearingly tough.

My hand is lonely

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Sometimes my hands curl up,
and other times,they open.
Then I feel the air;
My fingers relax.
I touch your hand;
uncurl it and press it to mine.
Palm on palm,it’s no secret
that palms connect to hearts.
In your face I see a hint of melancholy,
I feel it in my soul..
as if there was a secret connection..
thought how,I don’t know.
Somehow,touching, we create another soul,
Neither you nor I, but we……
Touching,need to be physical..
We know how a story can affect us that way.
What a gift to know we have touched someone…
In the heart.’s. most tender space.The place of love.
Both true and false,my palm is lonely.
Then I feel the caress of summer air..
To touch is to be touched
as one soul opens to another..
Vulnerable,human,loving,
Painful and illusory,like those dreams of childhood.
Now I go,first gripping, then loosening our hands.
Goodbye,we say,Goodbye