I've been having kind of a crappy day, and a kind of stressful week, and I was going to write a post about being crappy and stressed. However a lot of you seem to be having a crappy stressful time too, so I thought instead I'd send you an extract of a poem my not-god-god-mother (I'm not baptised - well, probably not baptised, but that's another story - and not religious, but it's that kind of relationship) wrote my for my birthday, which I particularly like at the moment.
Then life, that thing we never catch
Illusive like forgotten dreams
& sleep, a ledge at which we snatch
& fall and flail with primal screams
Will carry us, we have no choice
It's ticking now, we're in this time
& it's only this small tiny voice
That lifts us as we start to climb
And all the crocodiles will say
If you ask with inhibition
Is it not the most perfect day
For tea and cakes and erudition?