Dream Time Poetry

(It simply must be time for a little bit of nonsense)

Simple Simon clapped his hands on the way to going mad and said, “Don’t you know, my dear?  It’s really

very clear.  There’s an extra strand of DNA messing with my brain.”

So turned the one who didn’t know a brighter shade of pale because openings are none when always

closed to love.

Perturbed she went a-scratching.  Nothing, nothing!  Down she went right to the very core and, lo

behold, a little gem lay nestled in the middle of confusion. 

“Ah-ha”, she said happily.  “It’s a little lump entrenched” and she wondered what would be if she could

set it free.  Simple Simon looked amazed.  “Don’t, don’t, you dare!  It’s a strand, you know, not a lump

you should be looking for.”

She scratched again a little more.  Maybe something strange from a long ago misty morn crept in with the

breath and brought everything together but even then and there she knew the lump was love bound and

tethered inwardly by another strand of DNA.

Simple Simon clapped his hands. “Tell me, tell me, please” and she stood a moment longer in that

intensely beautiful and vibrantly alive brighter shade of pale before turning back into one who didn’t know.

She left him then standing there a simple man with love and she wondered if in years to come she’d miss

her DNA given freely to ensure love doesn’t come undone.

Simple Simon clapped his hands ~ as he damn well should!

Other Poems by Helen

• The sense of then
• Beyond the limits
• A season of reality
• Necessity vs Need
• I trust but …