Down in the garden
If you look real close
Tho there be no daffodil or rose
There be these buds all tightly closed
What lies beneath, that no-one knows
A camellia or rhododendron?
I know not what lies in this one
And colour be it pink or red?
Or purple may be its mighty head?
And when, oh when will this beauty show?
Oh when, oh when will it let us know
What lies beneath its furry hide?
What treasures does it keep inside?
While all about has gone to sleep
While roses brown and petals leap
Down to the ground, trod in the dirt
Your secret's safe, you tease, you flirt.
So I will wait until the day
You shed your coat of green and grey
I'll wait until you show your face
And brighten up this dreary place.
Just fancied a poem tonight. Somehow, when I read it with a 'Pam Ayers' Devonshire accent, it seems more fitting.
An okay day with great kids and less than average adults. I feel myself curling into my shell. I don't want to communicate unless I have to. I don't want to see people or be near them. I just want to keep my head down and stay out of the way. I hope the feeling will pass. I love my job. It's just ...