Not all help is helpful.....
Angel is a dedicated assistant. She helps the Schwan's guy with my credit card, she attempts to assist most visitors in some way, usually while telling them in the most dramatic terms how utterly mistreated and neglected she is by her cruel human (and by them if they aren't falling all over her with attention). She has to climb onto my lap when I sit at the back door taking photos. Her newest thing is lying in front of the computer screen when I'm trying to play Zuma. This is not helpful... unless, of course, you think interrupting compulsive behavior is a good thing. Hmmm.
I don't have much to share tonight, and E just sent me a beautiful e-card thanking me for the poems, so that gave me an excuse to use a poem again tonight. I thought I'd go with something less serious, though, just for a change of pace. Hope it makes you chuckle a little. The lines are longer than most of my poems, so I'm going to print it in a bit smaller type in hope that it fits the blog column as it's supposed to.
The time has come her psyche said to talk of many things
Of toilets, birds and pregnant cats, of icky, wormy things
Of course, my dear, you can't expect the message to be clear
A psyche works quite subtly one's consciousness to steer
And so she sighed and dreamed again of toilets large and small
And once she almost fell from off a precipice quite tall
She dreamt of cats in closets, cats peeing in the hall
She dreamt of great big mansions and houses very small
She dreamt and she remembered, she dreamt and she forgot
Some images were vivid, some images were not
But the more that she remembered them, the stranger they appeared
Yet also she began to sense they were nothing to be feared
In fact, in time some symbols began to make clear sense
And she smiled and thought quite smugly, "I'm not so very dense."
And hearing this her psyche, from its vast creative plane
Drew forth some brand new symbols to befuddle her again
And now she dreamt of prisons and towns with funny names
And she dreamt of pigs and horses and playing silly games
She dreamt of feathered slippers and banking in the park
Some dreams were full of colors bright and some were very dark
She dreamt of popes and Chinamen, of ceilings falling down
She dreamt of being lost and scared, she dreamt that she might drown
She dreamt of taking buses, she dreamt of riding bikes
She dreamt of riding space ships, she dreamt of taking hikes
Sometimes she dreamed in series; some dreams were set apart
Some dreams seemed kind of foolish and some like works of art
Some dreams were full of mystery, in rich exotic places
Some dreams were very commonplace and she knew the people's faces
But few of them were boring, and she never, ever knew
What new peculiar happenings her psyche would bring through
And so each night she closed her eyes and journeyed deep inside
To the world of her unconscious where lost fears and hopes reside
And often in these travels, with sweet visions she was blest
That would help her in her day-life, that would guide her on her quest
To heal and gird and strengthen her sometimes fainting soul
As she struggled first to find herself, then to touch the Greater Whole
But whether one is questing, or only in a doze
The clever, witty psyche will keep you on your toes.
- Katherine E. Rabenau
Some things I'm grateful for today:
- Dr. Jim
- Progress with missing check & Discover Card
- Angel Joy & Tara Grace
- the ability to read
- good books
- eyes with which to see & read
- help in all its forms
Have a wonderful day!
May help come when you need it...
and be what you need.