Despairing not: A poem 

My bed lies between the walls of loneliness 

It is the space of redress 

The graveyard of woes that I, in my mind, express 

The anxiety that I condemn it to witness 

I wake up before dawn is out of its nest 

My home faces the dark north-west 

A power miracle is a little rest 

And, in the aftermath, I feel at my best 

The lessons are learnt from the leaves I rake 

in good deeds and little mistakes 

Hope is the honey of my breakfast milkshake 

Even if the day ahead, like turquoise, is both translucent and opaque 

I do the washing with a spritely hum 

The machine’s grind tells me half the battle is won 

A dirty garment can be made clean and dry 

I can let a despairing moment, out of the window, fly