Happiness. Simple As A Glass Of Chocolate

Happiness. Simple As A Glass Of Chocolate Or Tortuous As The Heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.

I Dream A Lot, In Colour And In Sound And Scent. Quite A Few Of My Stories Have Come From Dreams.

That Wind. I See It's Blowing Now. Furtive But Commanding, It Has Dictated Every Move We've Ever Made. My Mother Felt It, And So Do I - Even Here, Even Now - As It Sweeps Us Like Leaves Into His Backseat Corner, Dancing Us To Shreds Against The Stones. V'la L'bon Vent, V'a L'joli Vent. I Though We'd Silenced It For Good. But The Smallest Thing Can Wake The Wind@ A Word, A Sign, Even A Death. There's No Such Thing As A Trivial Thing. Everything Costs; It All Adds Up Until Finally The Balance Shifts And We're Gone Again, Back On The Road, Telling Ourselves - Well Maybe Next Time

Anything That Can Be Dreamed Is True.

Like A Domestic Cat, Purring On The Sofa By Day, But By Night, A Strutting Queen, A Natural Killer, Disdainful Of Her Other Life.