some days are better than others
in this freestyle learning life;
some chock-full of pleasurable projects,
others with squiblings in strife.
some days they trot round the globe,
swing by the far east before dinner.
some days they’re spies on a mission,
but scrap about who is the winner.
their playing is endless,
the mess is relentless,
there’s crap spewed over the floor…
i can’t always see,
that it’s simply debris;
the ghostlings of games gone before.
they flit and they fidget
from one little hap to the next…
and then they’re engrossed
in what they love the most
making comics, composing the text.
sometimes the outlook is gloomy,
sometimes our weather’s divine;
sometimes we flow like a river,
sometimes we bitch, moan and whine.
the viewpoint is clear, i now realise
what we see is just what we find;
some days are better than others?
it depends upon our state of mind.