Hurly Burly

Thinking of the Hurly burly,
In my brain when I’m due up early.
No rhymes have come for almost a week,
This is not exactly like counting sheep.
Lay me down again you know,
That this is the moment, it starts to flow.
But by way of recompense,
It kind of makes perfect sense.
The brain is busy, the fever gone
And into my room, the bright moon shone.
Waiting for my head to burst,
As I quench the writers’ thirst.
I will write in present tense,
There is no form of defence.
Emotions out and feeling weak,
No chance for me to even speak.
At the end I must concur,
That the night becomes a blur.
It seems as though it’s been an age,
Since writing words on the blank page.
Lack of sleep, Oh what fun
As often, off my mind will run.
A free spirit, don’t try to tame
As it plays this silly game.
Feelings deep, behind the eyes,
Not the time to criticize.
Rest a while as you lament,
When you suffer this torment.
The lights are out, the room is black,
There really is no turning back.
Your own fault, who lit the fuse,
Don’t hold them back there is no use.
Hope the words will come out right,
When I’m awake half the night.
Feelings will come into play,
If I awake at break of day.

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The Music Box

You are listening to the Fleur de Lys,
And how the music is there to please.
Caught up at once in a whirl,
Watching as around she twirls.
Her audience of silver and gold,
Sparkle and glint from days of old.
The box you would buy for a little girl,
As you watch her wonderful life unfurl.
Dressing up pieces for her pleasure.
Are the items she will come to treasure.
Replaced in the box and wind the key,
Poised for the next time you want to see.
Ready to dance you’d see that she did,
After all those years when you lifted the lid.
Spring it open and look what you found,
As she spins around and around.
Her paint is old, her skirt is tattered,
Dressing up jewellery broken and battered
As you open the box, she’ll take to the stage
Despite the fact, she’s showing her age.
Relentless she dances on and on,
The Music box still plays her song.
Around the room, a little girl dances
With grace, she bends and prances
As she listens to the favoured tune,
Head so dizzy she starts to swoon.
As you open it up, surprised to find,
A dancer who stands up there behind,
You wind her up and watch her go,
On her stage to see her show.