That Morning Sluggishness

There’s a slug in my shower

– sorry you’ll have to go

but however you  got there

I’ll just never know!

 

There’s a slug in my shower

-yes, you might well make haste

And, if that’s how you got there,

go on, back down that waste!

 

There’s a slug in my shower

-Yes, I know you’re quite small

But I just can’t be sharing…

That wouldn’t do at all!

 

There’s a slug in my shower

-yes… it’s raining outside

But you’d get just as wet here,

No use trying to hide!

 

There’s a slug in my shower

-what a card! Enjoy the ride.

I’ll drop you off real gently…

There now, you’re back outside.

 

There’s a no slug in MY shower

-for a moment  I felt sad

But then again…Hey buddy!

Can you find your OWN pad?hug me slugs

Photo credit: http://elizabethruffing.com/2015/06/finally-more-stuffed-toy-slugs.html

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Enchantment

My feet sink into the freshly-mown springy softness of the grass that skirts the meadow and leads to the wood. I am transported to a magical world; where dragonflies appear as threads hovering above your toes and v-backed lizards lie dozing in dark spaces. Here tiny caterpillars take refuge under the miniscule white flowers of cow parsley umbrellas, while the smallest acorns imaginable start to grow before your eyes on the knobbly oak twigs that hang over the track. Hopefully, we pick a few galls, intending to make my own ink; only to discover that a rich brown hue only comes from the later growths. I leave them in my pocket – if only to take a piece of the enchantment home with me.
In this wondrous place we are transported to another realm where cuckoos do not spit, yet frog-hoppers do, and baby grasshoppers note our passage. Deep crevasses lie underfoot and we take care, joking that if one slips we will have to use Rapunzel’s hair to rescue the other.
As I leave, the damsel in question sits combing through her endless tresses with her fingers. I almost offer to show her where the teasels grow but am loath to disturb such reverie, she seems to be so wistfully drinking in the scene – sketchpad at the ready to record the confined perspective of her gaze.

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