Monday, 7 December 2009

The Dream

I jumped out of bed this morning,
desperately trying to cling on
to the loose ends of a fast-fading dream.
Little did I know that this sudden leap
and the following sprint to the computer,
would lead me into an argument
with a large and almost immovable object
that stood, quietly waiting, in the corner
of my small, dark studio
and as a consequence,
cause me so much discomfort.

I noticed that it was 5am. as I bent down
to switch on the mains
and because of tiredness, I forgot
that I'd left a protruding washboard
on one of the pine shelves
situated immediately above the switch.
There was a sickening 'clang' as my forehead collided
with one of the thin legs on the washboard.
I screamed inwardly, as a hundred beads of sweat
burst, like spring buds on my reddening brow.
I didn't want my wife to know
that I'd done something quite so silly.
She'd never let me live it down.
I can hear her now:
"You'll never guess what Colin did this morning..."
My friends would laugh
and say that I should play the washboard
with thimbles on my fingers and not use my big head!

I must admit that I did eventually smile
at the thought of myself playing this thing
in front of an expectant audience,
who immediately froze into a state of shock
when I started butting the washboard with my head;
pulsing to the rhythm of a 12 bar blues
played loudly by a group of old Folkies.

I sat for a while until my head cleared
and then moved slowly towards the switch.
With one outstretched finger and an easy movement,
the job was done at last.
My computer burst into life after a short while
and I swiftly sat down on my faux
leopard skin covered swivel chair.
I was now ready to begin writing!

My mind was a complete blank canvas...
Not even a minute blob of colour stained its surface!
What was it that I was going to write about?
What was that wonderful dream I dreamed?
What was all the fuss about?
Was it all worth the lump between my eyes?


Photos by: Linda Shaddick.

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