In the darkness of the night,
My mind becomes free to process the questions from the day,
But they have no solutions these thoughts,
No answers easily discerned,
And so I lie in bed,
Unable to sleep,
Because the same thoughts keeping swirling through my mind.
How can four people from a group of six,
End up on holiday together,
Without the other two knowing,
Or was it only me that was left out?
Perhaps they didn’t think about me at all,
Perhaps they considered asking,
But decided it wouldn’t work,
Is one any better than the other?
Or is there a solution I cannot imagine?
How do I feel about this fact?
Do I feel slighted, unwanted, ignored?
The problem is that I can’t reach a feeling about this,
Aside from the awareness that I am surprised,
And I feel different and excluded,
But what is new about that?
Then there is the case of the missing bass recorder,
I can’t understand what has happened to it,
I think I played it a week ago,
When a couple of friends were around,
But I can’t be certain that I did,
But I am sure that I practiced it,
I have pieces that need looking at for this weekend,
About eight pieces in fact,
Not all require the bass,
But I can’t get pass the fact that I cannot find it,
I can’t get pass the fact that I haven’t a clue where to start,
Every so often I kid myself I haven’t look somewhere in the house,
So I tramp around expecting to find it in plain view,
But it isn’t there,
And it isn’t where is wasn’t before,
But still I look, somehow convincing myself that I just overlooked it,
But it still isn’t there.
And in around these two loops are songs that I have been obsessing about recently,
Midge Ure’s Fragile,
Midge Ure’s Become,
Woven in the background,
Filling in the gaps because I attempt to solve,
The holiday connumdrum,
The case of the missing recorder.
I cannot sleep.
I acknowledge this.
I recognise the problems I am trying to solve,
And try to put them on hold,
But my mind has other things to be concerned about,
Like facilitating the next meeting,
How can I involve photography,
Take a few pictures on their phones,
Fifteen minutes worth of anything that interests them,
Perhaps come back and write down what interested them,
Words to a rhythm,
Main items to a story,
Memories from the past?
Still not sleeping.
Only one thing left to do.
Get up and write these things out,
Hopefully sleep will come after that.
Does it though?
Always, I want to be with you, make believe with you …