Words in my Head

Stories bump and jump like possums in the night

I get out of bed

to let them down

onto paper

and then I can sleep


A story darts in like a white rabbit

I quickly scribble it down

before it disappears

like magic


But some stories swirl like fine wine

I’m filled to the top

I walk carefully all day

so as not to spill a drop

then in the evening I sit

still

and slowly sip

and savour

my story