You look at me so strangely!
Is it so difficult to comprehend?
I think, I dream, I know!
I am not a sack to be filled
Even if it be goodies, you dish out!
I think of touching feelings;
I dream of seeing sounds;
I know the sounds, colours make!
I try to tell you this,
but no, you’ll have me sit,
Straight back, hands on the desk,
Pencil in hand, eyes on my book!
You’ll have me shut out the goblins
Elves and fairies, perched upon my shoulder,
You’ll have me utter nonsensical sounds
(You call them words!)
You’ll have me blur my colours
Into black pencil strokes, on white paper…
And, Oh horrors!
You’ll have me leave my Rainbow
Hanging in the rain rinsed sky-
And the pot of gold, lost forever!
27 August, 2008