In dreams, I sometimes imagine that I too am a poet of renown, stirring souls and tugging at heart strings with the sheer beauty and magnificence of my words.
They rise and soar, the rhymes sway into rhapsodic rhythms to capture and inspire the imagination to rise to even greater heights.
Late at night, ALL seems possible…but…daylight comes, and reality is rubber gloves and last night’s dishes.
I DID say dream, remember? …and I like to fondly ‘dream’ that Henry Lawson and ‘Banjo’ Paterson are peeking over my shoulder and having a good chuckle about my ‘feeble but funny twist’ on their wondrous words…….just maybe!