there is no greater joy than saturday tea toast telly in bed with my boy
Tag: Mental Health
inside i'm no scribe can't hide monotonous diatribe no windowed world view just a faded watercolour of shifting hues watching grey's melt into blues
The Belgian Quarter
I like the morning The path untrodden and the flag firmly furled They clean the detritus of the night before When I hid behind my hotel room door The wilderland forged from clay and sand Fresh foliage from a spray can Gives up it's starting role as, The bustle steals my quiet stroll
The Muffin Man
Apparently I'm the Muffin Man I don't live on Drury Lane But when faced with mounds of baked goods I choose the muffin...again Apparently I'm the Muffin Man I'm not a fan of change So when there are no muffins It causes me some strain I know that I'm the Muffin Man And what you might not see I find a comfort in consistency That soothes anxiety.