The Watercan

A watercan for dying flowers

Little feet walking in the daisies

New York

The great depression

Looking for a great sensation

You kiss me like I’m red

You kiss me like I’m bled

You touch me like I’m pink

You touch me like I’m pure mink

You hold me like a violet flower

You hold me like love by the hour

You carry me like a blue flame

You carry me out of the rain

You smell me like I’m spices and herbs

You smell me like I was always yours

You play with me and my copper hair

You tell me we are forever

You play me like I am rare

We are together

I want to be kissed in disco light

I want to be held by the waist all night

I want to be stroked,to be treated nice

I want to be walked home by someone warm and wise

I want to be undressed tenderly

I want to be looked at desirably

God,please bring me someone

I need to be alive

When will my love arrive?

You wait so long

No longer young

The friendly and fond

Raining outside

I can hear it quite loud

I am in my bed with the heating on

I feel grateful I am not so cald

Me and my book

I love my niece Soph

Rolling her eyes,jokey

Even when she’s ropey

She’s my little loaf!

Bloods taken

Weight?Bacon!

Let’s put some steak on

Or bake a cake to faint on

Or start the day with porridge

Even if it’s horrid

Fill up your fruit bowl and set a goal

Salads,Vegs,include them all!

Of course I am no expert,I should take my own advice.

I wake up every morning at six for too much cereal and a chocolate fix

I get real pain in my stomach

There’s no information in my head

I try to remember but it’s all a blank

I cry,I cry most days

It feels like frying an egg and the whites bubbling

Blow torching meringue

I can feel them tearing the paper

Being ill

All those years,16 years and my family would rather me suffer

Than sing,have a go at the shop:

I needed my voice though,too painful not singing in a music shop

I’m overpowered,overruled when I try to diet

I’m not making this up

Warm water

Don’t want to be cold and unfeeling

‘A sparkling welcome’-Leigh Hunt

‘He will not come,and still I wait.

He whistles at another gate’-Francis Ledwidge

‘Cradle songs’-Francis Ledwidge

Dreams of sunset –gold