Popped up memory

Popped up memory

Popped up memory

Pastel popping Mama

Pastel popping Mama

She traced the building
With her finger
“It’s Wood Street”
Then she cried.
She danced there on D day.

Stroke Survivor

Tough and gritty feeling thwarted

Laying on her bed

What you been up to pastel popper?

With sunlight in her bouffant

Thought and intention spilled out

From chalky depths

Colour memory

Colour memory

Learning to see

Dad

Dad

If growth is taking place then something is working right
Keeping moving but still going over the same ground
Annoying
Enthusiastic
Then it wains
Millions of little factories at work
We know very little about
Got to appreciate the ability
To think
Let your mind roam free
I am is the place be.