Excerpt: total drivel.

Keep the tiger awake while I play with the red blocks on the carpet. Blueberries in the wheelbarrow beckon the birds to come and have a munch.
And where do the quiet spaces come in, where does the pain hit home, where does the pretense stop and we look up to the moon and ask, where is mine? When does that happen?
When the light goes away for the day, when the darkness leads the way. Let the stars dance around our feet as we measure out the steps, keeping hold and touching lightly but with intention.
See, it doesn’t always have to rhyme.