A Windy Poem

The wind commanded this poem (and the drawing above) out of me:   Wearisome wind, Whistling and whirling, It’s windsome.   Whipping round walls, Whirring down walkways, It’s wildsome.   Another example of making up words, as written about previously. Perhaps there are official words I could’ve used there that …

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Get Unstuck. Walk.

It was raining on and off – the perfect day for cosying up with a blankie and a book which is exactly what I’d been doing the whole morning. I felt the need to connect with the outside world, to interact with strangers and talk to them about everyday things …

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