Honey for your thoughts

Signposts point everywhere
but that’s the problem – which way was my way
without a map of destiny
no carrot, no firework behind
still in dreams I race to the crossroads
before three vampires can consume me

Mr Right Way would put me on the right road
there he was in my mind’s eye,
in the penny dreadful romance, from film noirs
caught in the arc light of my father’s dark eyes
with halloween candle and mirror at midnight I’d foreseen
only a rather tired and terrified version of myself
but he was there all right – Mr Right On
although having morphed from Mr 9-5 into a Hey Man
what was a girl to think ?

I thought I just had to be a believer
no faith in stuff and nonsense
accumulating widsom like my grandmother
read Schopenhauer, Marx  and existential poets
live in a houseboat, smoke pot and raise children
the kind who would not devour the world in wants

Death still has the sting
but I’m wised up to life as a much sweeter place
I should have gathered honey instead

© Laura Granby

 

I felt it necessary to see what this collage could inspire since I composed it for MLMM  Writing Prompt #167
and to enjoy more Sunday versifying am joining up with  Poetry Pantry